The old red cherry tree is gnarled, mottled with moss, and leans precariously to one side; mountain wind and seasonal temperament have had their way. I've climbed as high as I can go, slipped a bit; fog's draped a fine moist layer over everything. Young twigs sprout from older branches, their bright green leaves seem joyous; a reminder I used to be full of enthusiasm, eagerness. They scratch my cheek, I welcome the pain, the feeling. Her bark is so close to my face; like a mother's carress. Breath in her earthiness; recall as a child long walks through the woods. Mother named the flowers, trees, pointed out animals. Her favorite, the deer. Through tears I see a doe below. Wonder, "Is this a sign?", when far away an interrupted cry I hear. Realize it's mine. Open my hand. Let the empty rope fall.
by Margaret Bednar, June 10, 2019
This is for "dVerse Poets Pub - Prosery #1". A Flash Fiction story (a very short piece of prose telling a story) in 144 words or less. AND we must use the line "When far away an interrupted cry" which is from Robert Frost's poem "Acquainted with the Night" I used exactly 144 words.
The photo was taken from my bedroom window.
I invite you to listen to me read: