This is not about me. The chain is the silence.
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
Message in the Pine
It stood, crooked and fading on the edge of an eddy - a neglected pine tree. In its youngest days stakes were driven into the ground on either side of it, and a chain was wrapped around its trunk and stretched between the two, in order to strengthen it for the storms. But now, several years later, the chain cuts into its bark as its needles turn from green to strangled rust. What had once supported it now leads to its demise. I think it would survive if someone cared to cut the chain. Perhaps I'll cut it the next time I pass that way. Its not my property. Its not my choice. But someone needs to set it free.