Friday, May 4, 2012

Flash fiction followed by a poem . . .


The Tree at the Lake
By Diane Davies-Dixon

For 20 years, Serenity and her family spent their summers at the lake.  The year before, a new family spent the summer there too. They had a son named Jack.  Serenity and Jack fell in love.  They spent endless afternoons and evenings lying beneath the weeping willow that Serenity was so anxious to face once again.  Underneath this tree is where they shared their dreams of their future together and the secrets of their past.  This is their tree.  It is their place.
The grass was cool and moist beneath her bare feet as she made her way through the picnic area to the woods that surrounded the lake. The trees overhead gave cover to the rising sun.  Each step a painful reminder of the steps she took one year ago to the day.  The deer scurried away as she made her way through the woods to her beloved weeping willow tree; The one she bared her soul beneath to the only man she ever loved.
She pushed her long dark hair back behind her ears and breathed deeply.  She slowed down as she moved closer to the edge of the woods.  The birds sang merrily from where they were perched high up in the trees. 
“Oh Jack,” whispered Serenity.
She stopped walking and kneeled down, tucking her long black skirt under her knees. She put her head in her hands and sobbed.  The moist earth seeped through to her skin, but she didn’t care.  She wasn’t ready to go on.  The strength she felt when she entered the woods vanished.  Can’t face the tree, what it might tell me. Gone was the strength to face the tree at the edge of the lake.
Arriving was the pain inside of her that sucked the breath out of her.  On her hands and knees, she stared down at the dirt she rested upon trying to summon her strength from the earth to continue on.  Breathing in the scent of the damp ground, she closed her eyes and counted one, two, three, four, five .  . .
Opening them, she exhaled and began to rise up from the ground and dust herself off of leaves and dirt.  With strength ever so slightly renewed, she planted her feet more firmly on the ground and set forth walking once again. 
“Please help me through this,” said Serenity out loud.
In a quickened pace, she made her way to the weeping willow tree.  Standing under it she felt a cool breeze pass over her bare arms and up her legs, but the leaves on the tree remained still.   Again the breath came out of her, and she sank to the ground.  She was not alone.  It is Jack who she felt with her. 
Frozen in time, her mind began to race through the events of that night one year before.  Jack and Serenity met under the weeping willow tree.  It was the last night of the summer that either of them would spend at the lake.  The weeping willow sat at the edge of the woods just along the lake.  It was the most passionate night they spent together under that tree, protected by its embrace.  They skinny-dipped in the moonlight and gazed at the stars, holding on tight to each other, forgetting about the hours passing by for as long as they could.  The ripples of water that blanketed the lake were the only witnesses to their love.
Then it came time to part.  They said their goodbye’s with heavy hearts and wet eyes and promises to return.  Neither one of them looked back as they walked their separate ways back to their families. 
Waking up from her reverie, she glanced over at the trunk of the tree.  Jack and Serenity, 8-8-90 til forever was still there, carved into their weeping willow.  She smiled at the tree and made her way over to run her fingers across the bark, feeling each imperfect letter and treasuring every curve of Jack’s wood work, of his existence.
She had avoided coming to this tree all summer.  She never once swam in the lake.   She never saw Jack again after that summer.  He was sent on a special mission with the Marines a week after summer vacation and never returned.   Serenity finished writing her first book of poems titled: For Jack--In Memory of Us.




Skinny Dip
By Diane Davies-Dixon

Ripples of water
Caressing skin
Witness to love
So rare
Dancing moonlight
Across the lake
Where lovers
Indulge 
In their
Own delight
Gently encircling
Naked souls
The water
Brings them
To life
Smoothness
Skin against skin
Soft and inviting
Bodies entwined
They bring each other
To life
Skinny dipping

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