Farewell, My Boy
Don’t be sad for me
even as you see my scattered remnants.
Mine was a bountiful life.
From the day I first peeked from moist earth
and found sunshine
to the day I survived the clearing
of trees in my grove
and stood alone.
I reached higher, higher
toward a blue sky
until my loneliness ended
when a little boy arrived to
climb my limbs each day
and listened to secrets I whispered.
Today, My Boy is a man
who needs warmth more than secrets
I’ll burn brightly, crackle, “Farewell, My Boy,”
As I reach for the sky once more.
THE END
Friday Fictioneers is a compilation of writers from around the world who gather online weekly, guided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge? To write a story in 100 words or less based on a new photo prompt.
To read more stories in an online flash fiction anthology by Friday Fictioneer authors, click:
Thank you for the photo prompt, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Your photo made me happy and sad all at once, as I remembered climbing trees, playing in my grandmother’s field, chopping wood and sitting in front of a warm fire, listening to the crackle of a tree that once was.
Lovely scene – I can picture the boy and the tree and their bond.
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Thanks, Iain. I remember the bond I had with the tree in my front yard. As a child, I used to climb it and watch the world, unbeknownst to all. It was my escape.
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Dear Jan,
Why does this put me in mind of Puff the Magic Dragon? I love this poem from the POV of the tree. These anthropomorphic stories don’t often work for me. This one does and fires on all cylinders. (How am I doing for halfway through my first cuppa?) To put it succinctly…well done!
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Absolutely! I had ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’ pop into my mind after reading this. Very well done.
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Thanks, Rochelle. I learned a few new words in your comment! 🙂 I couldn’t help but write from the POV of the tree, as I saw “her” scattered pieces. I often wonder about the feelings of all living creatures–plant and animal. (Does a flower hurt when you pick it?)
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So truly beautiful!
Without the photo, this could also read like a mother’s farewell words to her child.
Wonderful take on the picture prompt, Jan.
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I read my comment again and now feel so foolish about the Mother reference. I wonder what I was thinking while type. Sorry, Jan.
Read the poem again and it’s really really beautiful.
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No worries, Moon! I rather like that your first interpretation was that of a mother. Appropriate, because isn’t it true that mothers often gladly sacrifice all for the love of her child? Thank you!
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A tree with happy memories. Simply delightful Jan.
Click to read my FriFic!
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Thank you, Keith. Like the tree, though I may not be particularly happy with whatever way my life comes to an end, I will be grateful for its bounty.
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Reminds me a bit of The Giving Tree. Nicely done.
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Ah that was it – I was trying to place what it reminded me of! It’s such a beautiful concept – the changing relationship of the boy and the tree – how each meets the other’s needs. This poem captures it so eloquently.
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Thank you, Josh. I never thought about it, but perhaps it’s because of The Giving Tree I have such empathy for trees and what they’ve seen. And that reminds me–I need to get that book to read to my grandkids when they’re a little older.
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That is very sad. Reminds me of both “The Giving Tree” by Shel Silverstein and “Puff the Magic Dragon” written by Leonard Lipton and Peter Yarrow, and famously performed by Peter, Paul, and Mary in 1963.
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Thank you, James. I didn’t think of either “The Giving Tree” or “Puff the Magic Dragon” when I wrote this, or when I feel sad when I see a fallen tree, though based on comments here, I’ve clearly been influenced by their themes that must have remained inside me when they were planted by these stories in my younger days. 🙂
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I like that the tree harbours no malice towards the boy. I’m not sure I’d be so forgiving, in its place.
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Thank you, Rowena! I hope at the end of my life, I harbor no malice and only gratitude. We shall see. 🙂 Your story was beautiful!
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I like your poem a lot. The tree articulates a humane vision of life even as the human has cut it down and is preparing to burn it. I don’t think I shall ever feel quite the same about log-burning stoves…
It’s a beautiful poem, full of acceptance.
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That was a most beautiful poem. It feels familiar but I cannot say why…
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I did like this poem, but it felt as if the tree may have become sad from being alone.
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holy crap! this made me tear-up. Good one, Jan! One of your best.
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Well done, Jan. I’ve often thought that a tree would rather be used for firewood rather than just lay on the ground and rot. Serving a useful purpose make a life complete.
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How lovely. Loved the POV from the tree.
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Trees can become so much… yet it feels a bit sad that men needs more than little boys…
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Such a lovely piece! I hope the man gives thanks.
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What a beautiful depiction of a tree’s POV
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I love the relationship between the tree and the boy/man. A beautiful poem.
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I really enjoyed that little story. Just beautiful in its flow and simplicity.
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Love the story…I like the idea of brightly crackling…in my case it will probable be cackle. 😉
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