In the middle of a thick, dense forest hides a lush green meadow. There stands an old weathered oak tree. Ancient dark brown bark encases the tree. Rough light brown brached shoot out of the tree like dull, lifeless fireworks. Rich emerald pin-like leaves swirl and twirl in circles as they assist the lonely wind. The leaves form a delicate face of a teenage girl. She sweetly smiles as she sees me walking towards her. Leaves form a makeshift hand as she smiles wickedly. My arm reaches out and touches her hand. Her lime green eyes fade away as her smile weakens and dissolves into thin air. A booming voice echoes in the distance and I hear a weak thank you. Now I stand all alone in the middle of a dense forest, wishing that she was still here.
My Oak Tree
February 13, 2009