The bedroom window frames the backyard.

Blue sky, green grass, old oak tree.

Once, a tire swing dangled from its strongest branch.

I cannot think of the right words.

Once, a boy scaled its wide trunk.

I cannot express the whirl of emotions.

Once, a family held a picnic under its canopy.

I cannot ease the heartache or escape the sorrow.

Once, a girl used its shade for her pet hamster’s funeral.

I am not stronger or better or hopeful.

Once, a mother watered its thick roots with her tears.

The bedroom window frames the backyard.

Blue sky, green grass, old oak tree.

Thank you for reading Oak Tree! Want more fiction straight to your inbox? Upgrade to a paid subscription and get 15% off FOREVER (for as long as you remain a subscriber).

Get 15% off forever