The Old man, And The Forest

The old man starred across the tall aging forest and remembered.

He remembered when the morning sun glistened on the leaves of then saplings.

He smiled a brief, crooked smile as he recalled harvesting their first Christmas tree from there.

Yet now his memories lay like the dust that is caught in the spider’s web of time.

He leaned back in his rocker and closed his eyes and remembered her smell.

Suddenly he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and for a moment all seemed...

Mr. Smith? Oh Mr. Smith…its time for your medications sir.

He opened his eyes and saw the young, pretty nurse standing there with water and pills in hand.

Her smile was soft, her voice smooth, and she reminded him of his great granddaughter.

“So how are we this morning Mr. Smith” she said in almost a whisper.

“Right as rain my dear” he replied as another dead limb in the forest of his youth fell to the ground….”yup, right as rain”.

He closed his eyes again; he smiled; he remembered the forest of his youth, as his limbs went limp and he too like the trees of his youth, crashed to the ground.

If A tree fell in the forest and no one was around to hear it…. would it still make a sound?

J. Allen Wilson © 7/17/09