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Thursday, February 11, 2010

Count to Ten

Oak trees swaying on a soft wind disguise themselves as birches today. Yesterday’s snow sticks like spray paint, trails of white flypaper hang in uneven strips from graying bark. They remind me of a spring day long ago, when aggravated; I sawed off a birch branch that blocked the view as we backed out of our driveway.

For one stunned moment I gaped as sap rained from the gash, a geyser of clear blood spurting from an amputated limb. As liquid pulsed from the open vein, I ran up the hill to the house, squeezing eyes tight to the unexpected wound my impatience had inflicted.


glnroz said...

dont know if this just actually happened, but very direct and precise in its delivery (to me at least, very good, I am no critic,, lol)

Liza said...

This actually happened Glen.

Robyn Campbell said...

I thought you had just written this. This actually happened? Wow! =)

Jon Paul said...

Great imagery. It really put me in the moment.

Tabitha Bird said...

Oh wow! Great writing Liza. That actually happened? Double wow!

Helen Ginger said...

I totally identify with you. Seeing the tree bleed would have shocked me, too.

Straight From Hel