Landscape of the Fallen

Written by: Soulfire

Shards of silver spliced the sky
while my sister went to gather
laundry fluttering on the line 
between two swaying Aspens.

But the fierce southeasterly 
proved too much
for one of the colossal pair
old and pock-marked, it slowly careened
then toppled the length of the yard.

Sensing the fall, my father screamed
her name into the broken sky 
until he found her under the arbour 
storm clouds in her eyes.

For many days after I rode my tricycle 
round the shaft of that body bruised
a mark of exclamation on
the story writing inward
as my father, with his chainsaw drawn, 
cut wood for many winters.