Wednesday, December 15, 2010

If you touch a tree...


"Quand on touche un arbre, on devient un arbre" Le huitieme jour 

I saw you today.
I came home early because I know how much you hate being alone for more than five hours a day.
I came in and I saw you watching a movie, you were paying a lot of attention, -which is very weird for you to do- and you were slowly and deliberately eating a slice of pizza. You don´t even like pizza...

-I am home. How was your day? -I asked, you did not answered.

-What are you watching? -I asked again.

You turned and said to me in the most horrible accent I´ve ever heard -Le huitieme jour.
Then you placed your finger on your lips like people do to ask politely for some silence.

I went to my room, but I left the door open so I could take care of you.
All I could hear was the dialogues... "Bleus, blancs, gris ou noirs, prompts, fous, lestes et titubants, et fanfarons les papillons, ces fleurs célestes battent l'air de leurs ailerons."

I called your name and you did not anwer, then the door, the steps... you were gone.
I went out to the street and you were running as fast as you have never run before. I followed you, I am your sister, I am supposed to take care of you and even more now when you´ve become like a child again.

You turned left and then you were out of sight. I read the name of the street in one house´s door "Little Rock Avenue". She used to live here before she married you.

I walked a few steps more until I found her old house. There you were, hugging a tree and weeping like a baby.

-Sam -I whispered -we must go.
-No -you said -She´s here, she used to say she would become a tree, this tree.
-Sam...
-No, shut up! If you touch a tree you become a tree... She is this tree and so will I.
-Sam...
-Shut up!
-She´s dead!

You kept on holding the tree... so I went home. I can´t fight this war for you, I just can´t.

It´s 11:00 P.M and you´re knocking at my door. Here we go again.



15 comments:

Sumit Sarkar said...

This is so touching...
very well written :)

David Franco :: ¡Ya Levántate! said...

¿Lágrimas? No, no, no son lágrimas; es que me entró polvo en los ojos...

Gugo said...

Wow! You keep on amazing me, this specific way of writing, your storytelling... I dont know I find something familiar to it... Why is that?

You take me there and make me feel all those things!
BRAVO!

Jingle said...

love the message.

actions and strong words are powerful tools in conveying meanings...
well done.

sad, yet brilliant piece.
independence is important.

booguloo said...

Do you serialize,or do your stories continue into books?
Fascinating start.

ukeepwalkingforward said...

heart wrenching, truly. what a story. you had me riveted throughout. I wish you and sam well.

http://ukeepwalkingforward.wordpress.com/2010/12/12/we-hate/

~Drew

lhg101 said...

Very sad. I wanted to know right away your relationship to this person.

arspoetica said...

a touching story, and especially for anyone who has had to take care of another. thanks for sharing this.

Jingle said...

how are you?
let me know after you are done:
#1: return favor to poets who are here,
#2: commented for 18 poets NEW to you,
Happy Saturday!
Blessings!
Thanks form the contribution!

royalansmith said...

Another pizza lover...good stuff free from form in a good way...enjoyed

Jingle said...

Greetings!
Here is the end of the year awards 4 you, enjoy!

End of The Year Awards 4 Friends of Jingle or Jingle Poetry Community

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! You Are The Best!

Link a poem to our potluck today, We send blessings all the way to brighten your day!

Lu Ann said...

Thank you all for the comments, I commented on your entries also :)

Robin Ellen Lucas said...

such a touching story... thank you for posting it...

musingbymoonlight.com said...

Fine work here. Sad and riveting.

athursdayschild said...

Wonderful writing. Trees hold energy.