Friday, May 2, 2008

The Elder



This Week’s Theme: Write about a Tree.


I used to be an important part of their life. The children comes to me in the afternoon, to rest their head on my bosom while I shade them with my leafy arms. Their laughter fill my days and my cold nights are warmed by the memory of their hands. They take comfort in my company and partake in the bounty of my fruits.

Days pass and weeks turn into months. Each day brings the children farther away from me.

Alas! I am now old and all of the small children have grown. They no longer seek the happiness and comfort that I bring.

I am weary and would like to rest. However, the birds that make me their home still need me. The time will come when I will cease to be and all that will be left are my memory.

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2 whisper(s):

dailypanic said...

this reminded me of an old oak tree on our farm, it was at the end of the lane that lead to our driveway. I'm sure it watched us everyday come and go and watch us grow as each year we stood underneath it waiting for the school bus. Today it is dead and just a stump remains but I haven't forgotten when it was green.

Paul said...

I think we all must have trees from our childhood that we felt watched over us. As adults we don't view them that way. Of course we know they don't miss us, how can they. But if we stopped to look back through the eyes of our childhood, I'm sure we'd think that they do.