My persimmon tree. She produced a lot of fruit, gathered by me and coyotes and possums and raccoons. She and I had lots of discussions. Or rather I spoke to her often. She only answered by the feelings she gave me, her body language when I would stand next to her leaning in and touching her alligator bark.
I told her that I would not cut her down as long as she continued to sprout. She was ready with green buds, but she was weak and the bark at her base had been scratched away by various animals looking for something inside her, some treasure. And then the wind came on Wednesday.
I knew she would hit that swing set when she fell, the swing set where I had pushed the girls and sang "How do you like to go up in a swing, up in the air so blue. Oh I do think it the pleasantest thing, ever a child could do." From Robert Louis Stevenson.
But I had made my promise. And now two sources of wonderful memories have collided. She will become firewood in a woodstove and the swing set some sort of yard art. They will manifest in a different way. Continuations.
may the wind deal kindly with us
ReplyDeletemay the fire remember our names
may springs flow, rain fall again
may the land grow green, may it swallow our mistakes
we begin the work
may it continue...
❤️
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