I was very excited to sign up for a Creative Writing class this semester. I thought studying how short fiction was written and then creating some for a grade might improve my writing. I settled into my seat on the first day of class with a lot of anticipation and watched as the professor wrote on the giant dry erase board: Creative Writing — Poetry.
Poetry!!?? Ack! I didn’t want a poetry class! Sure, I enjoy writing poetry, but I wrote poetry for me… not to share with anyone. And I would have to share in this class. So I wasn’t really looking forward to this semester-long class, but it’s actually turned out to be a lot of fun. And I’ve learned quite a bit.
Anyway, I thought I would share poems with you from time to time. Just be gentle with me and aware that poetry is not my preferred writing genre. Enjoy…
Two TreesLong forked fingers fell across the field. The chubby-cheeked child skipped over the fragrant meadow to stand at the haphazard fence. A swift smile split his saggy face as gnarled fingers beckoned her close. Two trees stood side by side; one distorted by age and time, the other a mere sapling. The limbs of the old man reached to the seedling; his branches stroked over her newly formed leaves. One by one, his limbs curled tighter and tighter around her, leaving no room for her to take root in the soil, squeezing and choking her until she withered and died. Long forked fingers fell across the field. The gaunt-cheeked girl stumbled over the fragrant meadow to climb steep stairs into a house. She staggered into her bedroom and firmly shut the door.