Ulrike Meutzner


when i was a kid there was this
tree i used to climb that overlooked a lake
and when i would fall in i would laugh
and roll up my jeans and they
would be soaking the entire walk back
to the car and on the journey home
and until i peeled them off in the bathtub.


but i would always go back to the tree
until i got better at walking further in
and not dipping my entire body into the water
by accident and when i made it back i would
smile and walk along the path a little ways
and tell the ducks they looked good
as they floated on the surface of a
luminescent wave.

when i was a kid i climbed every tree i
found even if i ended up with scraped knees —
i just wanted to see the sun go down
and i just wanted that photograph and i
just wanted to see the world from a little higher
up than i was used to. i always wondered
if things would look better between a canopy
of leaves and branches and the way the
sun seemed to pour down brighter rays.

i’m a kid who climbs trees on weekdays
and i look down from the highest point i can get
to and maybe i’m just a kid with a
tendency to climb until i fall and to risk
everything just to get a better view but from up here
the world really does look a little brighter.

— just a kid /// r.e.s