Poetry

Tree House

Caroline Lunt

I climb up the light brown ladderI smell fresh airA soft wind touches my faceGently brushing new green leavesI rest my back on a thick old treeand watch an ant crawlcarrying a small piece of greenA bird chirpsI look upI watch it fly awaysoftly on the windI take a deep breathand settle to my book.

Tree House Caroline Lunt
Caroline Lunt, 12
Shrewsbury, Massachusetts

Stone Soup · Children’s Art Foundation · Since 1973