With life and limb risked climbing br thirty feet up the cottonwood tree br to gather first offerings br to charm my first girlfriend: br Announced a template br for the rest of my life- br a dreamer, a romantic. br I'd plucked dozens of fine branches, br clustered with green seeds, br neatly arranged near the swing set. br Cottonwood pearls, br What better proof of my love? br br I don't imagine Molly ever saw br things my way, treasuring br true romance in that trove br of early summer's gems- br she quietly shook her head, br 'What was he thinking? ' Or, br 'No way to treat a princess.' br Unbridled, an eight year-old's br Love burst, never to blossom, br or so I thought as I watched br Molly walk away in a shrug. br br The next day in summer's heat, br the blessed things bloomed, br lying apart from their host: br My dying love, sinking heap br of cotton-puff clouds strewn br amongst criss-crossed branches, br lying forlorn, never taking root br or to be held and praised- br leaves losing their luster, br thin hearts wilting in the sun. br I hauled them into the alley. br br Fickle flowers of childhood br destined me to disguise br rejection and hurt, couched br in wistful smiles and poems. br Within this feigned lament, br even as I gaze and write, br I climb br hand over br fist, now br reaching br for the br sky.