Beauty and the Tree

Do you see what IIII seeee?

The young bird crashed into flaky red leaves and poisonous branches. It yearned for a sense in the madness, getting more and more damaged with each passing leaf. It was flying. Away from the strenuously oriented tree and all of its nettling features. It flew away, away from all of the harmonious chickadees, singing their cheerful and uncheerful hymns.

When it finally flew out it glided over the tree, putting it into a pretty perspective.

The sky was an endless blue, and the grass stuck out like green hairs on mother earth(You know, if you believe in that sort of thing).

As the bird stared at the tree, two young lovers walked up and stared at it.

“You see, Tom? Isn't it the loveliest thing?” one of them said.

“It's a tree.” the other one replied.

It's a tree. The words rang like morning bird calls in the young bird's ears.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a child.” The lover paused. “It's so old and dying now. It's been so long.”

“I don't get all the fuss, Sally.”

The one called Sally rolled her eyes and stared up wondrously up at the vibrant, falling leaves. The one called Tom simply stared at the tree.

The young bird was fascinated with Tom. So long had the bird thought of the tree as something great. But the young bird questioned if its wet eyes had conjured an image of greatness in...a tree.

“You know, my first kiss was here. David was his name.” Sally said.

Tom scowled while Sally let out a joyous, lively giggle. He went up to her as they stood under the tree.

“I'm sorry.” he said.

“For what?” Sally responded.

“I know how much this means to you. I don't mean to be the spoilsport that I know I can be. It's just, it's a tree? You know?”

“No, I don't.” she stretched out the formerly barren corners of her mouth.

They compressed their lips together slowly and passionately.

The bird sat there in consternation, pondering whether the tree was great or not at all. It stared at it, seeing what it saw. Seeing the flaky leaves and shining sun. Seeing venomous branches and leaves that fell onto the green deathbed below, seeing what they saw.

Tom and Sally saw two different things. Tom saw a tree, whereas Sally saw long lost memories that she held, the long lost kisses of a former lover, and beauty and death incarnate. Seeing what she saw.

And perhaps the young bird saw what it saw as it swooped into the leaves in the refreshing autumn air, walking past the precipice of a low hanging branch.

Author's Note

The usual. Let me know what you think.

Reviews

[Xavier Lee]

I like you poetic style, its unique and refreshing. The only I'd note is your use (or lack thereof) of possessive pronouns. For example, the line "As the bird stared at the tree, two young lovers walked up and stared at the tree." I would replace the second "tree" with "it" and later "morning bird calls in the young bird's ears." Using the word "bird" again is unnecessary, you could change it to "his" or "it". Either way, I enjoyed the short story and I would love to hear more from you.

[J.B. Octo]

Thanks dude, I really appreciate the reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying my stories!