elms
by David Ackley
In his youth the man who became
my old grandfather planted elms along one side
of the drive to the white farmhouse,
making by my time, a green canopy over the double tracked
dirt, the leaves overhead flickering in the least breeze,
their almond shadows shivering underfoot, a watery surround
tinged lime, where I swam in the air, for those moments free.
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Author's Note
Happy Birthday to my uncle Edward Hujsak, an actual rocket scientist, and poet and a humanist of the first order.
Other stories by David Ackley
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Beautiful. My father, too, planted trees that grew up as I did.*
Acute images & fine sentiment, David.
Visually beautiful!
Lovely, David.
Thanks all. Your comments very welcome.
Oh, the elms. Lovely.
Lovely.
Thanks Dianne and Gary.
"their almond shadows shivery underfoot, a watery surround/tinged lime, where I swam in the air, for those moments free."
I like how the imagery seems botanically correct and deepens the sensations of the running grandson. *
Good piece.
Dear Ann,
Thanks for attending to this piece and your uniquely astute response.
david
Dear Sam,
Thanks so much for reading and reacting.
best
david