dolorous interludes.

Old Oak Furniture.

And so the tree no longer needed fields of wild flowers- bright burgundy, sunned yellow, bashful pink with a tinge of youthful cream white, bold blue, a veneer of vivifying exuberance and sprightly spontaneous joy which it no longer feasted upon; it no longer needed the false security of the all consuming vines that adorned its ageing bark; it no longer relished in the slightness of a fluttering butterfly's touch, or the tingling sensations of little black creatures crawling and carressing its trunk, or the strange satisfaction of being a home to the migratory birds seasonally; it no longer found nourishment in stretching its roots into the deep of fertile alluvial soils that fed its illnesses in poor weather. It only needed mild rainfall, visible sunlight, and quite simply, air, for its survival.

If only that were true.

posted by voyeur @ 7/23/2005 04:35:00 AM