Monday 24 January 2011

The Tree

There is a tree outside my window.

It's not a particularly special tree; just a tree.

It stands in the pub garden next door, reaching over four stories of student housing. Perhaps it's set aside in a special part of the garden, with grass and flowers and stones. It could have seating around it, a bench perhaps. You have to wonder if the smokers in the garden even notice the tree, or just walk right past it.

There is a tree outside my window.

It's not a particularly special tree; just a tree.

Four stories high and I can see all of its branches and the trunk as it disappears behind brick and metal buildings. Winter has stripped it of its leaves, and in the darkness it is just a silhouette against the bright lights of the buildings surrounding it. The trunk looks scraped and scarred, maybe to protect student drinkers from splinters.

There is a tree outside my window.

It looks like it is crying.


by Kelly Lawson, DMU

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