IF I WERE A HOBO

IF I WERE A HOBO
By A.E. Deason

If I were a hobo,where would I go?
If I were a hobo, I'd go find a tree and then I'd be free!

If I could find a tree,
what kind of tree would it be? First I'd look to find
me a pine.
Yes! The pine tree should be a great big fine pine-
with needles that whisper and cones that shine.

I'd rest beneath its branches tall,
listening to the whippoorwills call.
The wind would hum a secret tune,
and I'd dream of indians beneath the moon.

But then I'd wonder...could there be more?
What if I found another tree to explore?

Maybe an oak, sturdy and wide,
with branches that swing like a carnival ride.
I'd climb up high and shout,“Wheee!”
A hobo's throne in a hobo's tree.

Or maybe a willow that bows down low, with leaves that tickle wherever I go.
I'd hide inside its curtain green,
the coziest tent I've ever seen.
Perhaps a maple, blazing bright,
its autumn colors a lantern light.
I'd gather leaves, both big and small, and crunch them loud in a hobo's fall.

Or maybe a cherry with blossoms pink, so sweet and soft they'd make me think:
What if I lived in a world of flowers,
counting petals for hobo hours?

But still,the pine tree calls to me-
a steady friend, so strong, so free.
Its branches whisper,“Come and stay.
I'll watch you dream both night and day."
So if I were a hobo, where would I go?
I think I know. I think I know!
l'd find a pine,my
fine pine tree,
and let it be home for a hobo like me.