To every man His treehouse, A green splice in the humping years, Spartan with narrow cot And prickly door. To every man His twilight flash Of luminous recall of tiptoe years in leaf-stung flight; of days of squirm and bite that waved antennas through the grass; of nights when every moving thing was girlshaped, expectantly turning. To every man His house below And his house above— With perilous stairs Between. James A. Emanuel