| May 2005 | ||||||
| Sun | Mon | Tue | Wed | Thu | Fri | Sat |
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |
| 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |
| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 |
| 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 |
| 29 | 30 | 31 | ||||
| Apr Jun | ||||||
Saturday, May 14, 2005The Oak Tree Down the Street
A half-hour to go, and then the date turns. A half-hour to get some words down for today before tomorrow comes. A half-hour. Thirty minutes.
So there's this...
And I sit and wait for that great thought to reappear. That thought that set off a light bulb only a few moments ago. That thought that I was so certain I wouldn't forget -- a certainty that regularly lets me down.
And there's this...
Down the street there is a big Oak tree. If you stop nearby and look up into its limbs -- something I think no one does because so few people walk. If you stop nearby to look, you can see a few old boards nailed into the trunk high above the ground.
Once upon a time, that tree looked out on a field. And the children from the neighborhood -- a neighborhood that was already encroaching on the empty space -- would come to the end of the street and climb that tree.
They might have had a rope swing hanging from it.
They might have had a tree fort built in it.
They might have climbed it many times.
Listened to its rustling leaves.
Leaned against its trunk.
Sat in its shade.
The children have gone. The Oak is still there.
11:41:22 PM permalink: [
]
feedback: 
comments: []
Last updated: 2/23/08; 11:46:05 PM
2008 david hasan
original theme design by Bryan Bell
