Ghost of childhood

Cherry

By miss-tree

Sun, 12 Sep 2004
  • 1027 reads
1 comments
 

the endless aching drone
of a chainsaw wakes me

I get up, look out in time
to see the crash down
of branches, budding twigs

this oak tree, which soaked up light
from years of days, casting shade
where we played in summer
will end in a grate to supplement
central heating and the ghost
of my childhood will rise
from the chimney in the autumn
and I will smell its smoke

Certificate U
Other Fiction

Comments

Submitted by Di_Hard on

the soulless cry 
of a chainsaw breaks sleep

and I get up, look out in time
to see the crashing down
branches, budding twigs

of the oak tree which soaked up light
from years of days, casting shade
where we played in summer

it's end will come in next door's grate
heating autumn nights 
and the ghost of my childhood will rise
from the chimney 
and I will smell its smoke