“Black Ink” and “Life of a Tree” by Chelsie Onaga

Posted: June 14, 2016 in Vol. 8: Creative Writing

Black Ink

 

The black ink sticks to the canvas.

Slow swipes across the plane,

bleeding down the cracks,

splatters the ground

The art dries on the wall.

 

The black ink leaves a trail.

Hand gestures become strokes,

Strokes become letters,

Letters become words,

Words reflect the story

The story dries in the paper.

 

The black ink escapes the mind –

The black ink transforms the artist.

 

black

 

Life of a Tree

 

I’ve known this tree

since I could walk.

He grew up behind

my grandparents’ house.

He stood straight

and tall to the sky

He shelters me

His body is broad

Wrap my arms half way around

His skin felt smooth,

but rugged like a pumice stone.

He gave us oranges for years

Now, I see the top of his head

Don’t squeeze tightly

His skin flakes off

His branches are twisted

His has no leaves to shade me with

He has no fruit to give

But there he leans.

 

 

Written for Tiare Picard’s ENG 273: Introduction to Literature: Creative Writing

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