Sticks

For months, the boy piled

sticks in his front yard.

The neighborhood watched

as their young architect

stacked and stacked

over the months

until his pile of twigs grew

into a magnificent fort.

And after toiling

half a year, his structure

stood solid in the yard.

But not an hour after the boy

laid the last beam across

his roof, the neighborhood

raccoon snuck into the fort.

The bandit ferreted away the

stalks that underpinned the child's

structure, to build a shelter of his own.

And that night the evening winds blew in

to disassemble the little hut, leaving

the boy with a pile of kindling.