I really like my piece. I like it because it is really unique and it has a lot of details and explains the sounds and feelings of the tree. It switches perspectives so I hope you enjoy my piece.
The Tree and the Man
By Kaya K.
Tree
A tree. That is what I am. I feel the light breeze race through my branches. The birds are my friends. They sing and make homes on me. I live on dirt softened by the deer leaping by me. I live in the mountains and love where I am. In fact, that is all I need. I am tall enough to see up above the other trees. At night the stars twinkle on my branches and glow like fireflies on my leaves.
The winter was coming. The days ended early and the animals were gone. My leaves fell to the ground and covered the dirt around me. I heard growls of machines and rumbling of trucks. The knots on my wood tightened. The world went dark. I rolled side to side in a truck with locks holding the back closed. The truck stopped and my rolling slowed. Two men, both quite fat in overalls and plaid jackets grabbed me. One of his hands was cold like ice and his face looked like a boar’s face but pink. The man’s teeth were yellow, going on brown and his fingers cracked from the cold air. He lay me down and grabbed an axe that sparkled in the winter light. The man lifted the axe high above his head and let it fly down to hit my bark. I rolled a bit, he laid down his foot and lifted the axe again. He hit the top point of his leather boot. It missed his foot by a little and trimmed his sock. I rolled but one of my branches stopped me from getting away. I waited for the man to come back but he didn’t.
Man
The tree slipped away from my axe. My foot stuck out from my boot like a fox in a hole. I let the tree roll down and looked at my trimmed wool sock. I saw the unraveling. I walked with toes so cold you could see frost on them. The pair of boots I was wearing was the only pair that I had. I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t mad but the sorrow in my soul let a tear roll down my face. The tear dropped onto the ice and froze.
Tree
I waited for hours and felt my branches stiffen and fall. I heard the howling of dawn circling the sky. The night’s air was frigid and I could hear the stocking up on food inside me; so when the storms came they would have a surplus. The next morning I saw a white layer of snow covering most of me excluding my branches. I saw the mountain goats racing up the mountain in the distance. I waited some more and let the snow fall onto my surface. The sky went black with glimmering snow racing down. The man never came.
Man
I stayed in my little cabin and warmed up my toes by my fire. I made a mug of tea and watched it simmer. I sat down in my rocking chair and took out a book from the creaky wooden shelf. Its dust coated my wrinkled hand. I opened a chest and took out a hand woven blanket. I put the book back and threw the blanket on the ground. Then I lay down on my bed and fell asleep. At midnight I sat up abruptly and coughed up my breath.
Tree
I saw another man. He picked me up. He had rosy cheeks and blue eyes like a mountain stream. The man’s hair was light brown. You could see his breath. It looked like a cloud in the air, rolling out of his mouth and disappearing. A big dog followed him, a foxhound. It pranced along his side and looked around for game. The man leaned me against his 1950 Chevrelot truck. He grabbed a hook and connected a trailer. He put me in it and locked the back. His hound jumped in the front of the truck and so did he. The truck’s engine rumbled and let out a puff of smoke making it hard to see the mountains in the background. I felt lost. The truck’s wheels started to roll. The spot where metal hit my hard wood bark was chipped and it banged against the back, denting it. The chips of bark fell into the grooves of the truck. The truck stopped and caused one more dent in the back. The man put me down. I rolled and managed to see the other man; the one that looked a like a boar. He signaled the same man to come. The man dropped me and let the bark crack and peel off. I heard the strong oaks surrounding us laugh at the man’s hasty actions. It felt like he knocked the wind out of me as I had the same feeling that humans do when gasping for air.
Man
I called my nephew. He dropped the tree and trotted over. The man panted and seemed to be out of shape. The fat man gave the nephew his axe. The nephew raised the axe high and let it fall. The sound of metal on wood was hollow. It echoed through the forest and gave me chills. He chipped and hacked at the wood until I was reduced to 8 pieces of lumber. The wind whistled and managed to release a whisper that tickled the ears of anything near by.
Tree
The man straightened rocks in a ring. Inside the ring was ash and charcoal. It was black, white and grey. Pieces of newspaper flapped back and forth with the wind. The man grabbed a match and lit the paper on fire. The flames rose, letting off heat and then vanished. The wind picked up the newspaper and ripped it into shreds. The man grabbed two pieces of me. He threw me in the fire! I burned with noises inside me screaming in my ears. The sap bubbled out turning into nothing. My bark fell off hissing in the fire. The fire rose up and the man kept throwing more pieces of wood. They landed hard on top of me. Sparks flew off and landed on the man’s jeans. I burned until I was black and as useless as the newspaper. I flew up and landed in the field on the grass next to a deer. Then I vanished too, just like the flames.
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