It was the year we had a crazy neighbor.
On moonlit nights heíd haunt the yard,
Staring at the treetops where, he told me,
Men were perching, talking to him.
I never knew precisely what to do,
So Iíd say something dumb, then look away.
They didnít scare him much, the treetop men;
But he wondered what they had in mind,
For it was his motherís house
Where he was allowed to live at large
Instead of at the hospital
As long as he remained improved.
I guess he feared his visitors
Were putting that at risk.
Funny thing: although I thought
I ought to testify that nobody was there,
I never gained the confidence
©2006 John I. Blair
To tell him that for sure.