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My Hazel
“We are reminded of the fairies’ hazelnuts, in which
diamonds were concealed.”--Neville Cardus.
As an only child,
I would play beneath
our hazel plant.
It grew in the loving shade
of an ancient oak.
My family loved hazelnuts.
My mother would grind them up.
making a paste
that she smeared on her baked goods.
My father called it a hazel tree,
but it was more shrub than tree.
I was mysteriously drawn to it.
It became my special place,
my refuge and emotional bastion.
I would take my writer’s notebook
out there and compose poetry.
I called it Hazel, as my companion
and pretend sister.
One day my father
went off to War,
to fight the Nazis.
Six months later, an Army sedan
drove into the yard.
They told us
that my father had been killed.
I went out to the hazel wood
because a fire was in my head.
She held me until
the flames became ash.
Glenn Buttkus
Prosery
Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub
16 comments:
I love the take of Hazel being that comforting friend, and maybe also made something grow from the ashes of sorrow in the end.
Oh wow, the reveal just takes the wind out of you. I also like the comfort aspects of the hazel wood; with it being a friend to help with grief, to diminish the fire that's swimming all throughout (the worst being the mind as we try to cope) that is bittersweet in the way it is told. Such a heartbreaking loss.
I can just picture the writer as a young person, sitting beneath the branches of this hazel shrub...comforted by the coziness and secrecy it provides. The ending is a solid slap back to reality. A jolting sadness.
This is heartwrenchingly poignant, Glenn. The image of the Hazel comforting "until the flames became ash," is so powerful, so telling. 💝
The lonely child befriended by a tree. It's not farfetched. Between my sandbox and the plum tree I had all I needed. I'm glad Hazel was there for him.
Such a sad, beautiful tale. This shows such tenderness for that poor lonely boy, and the comforting tree!
I like the way the entire family is woven together with the tree. The end is like a sudden lightning splitting it down the center.
Smoothly told tale, Mr B. I like the way it unfolds. Touching reality tale & fine use of prompt.
A great tale, well told, Glenn.
This is stunning Glenn! Like a beautifully radiant punch to the gut. Damned well written my friend... yes!
Your comforting tree is lovely. Nice write
much love...
A wonderful story, Glenn, and I love the quotation you found to complement it. I shall be looking for diamonds in hazelnuts now. Your opening paragraphs really appeal to the senses: the image of a young boy playing beneath a young hazel in the shade of an ancient oak and the scent of the baked goods, which is making me hungry – I haven’t eaten yet this morning because I’m enjoying the Prosery pieces so much. I love the way the lonely boy writes poetry in the companionship of his pretend sister, who comforts him when his father dies, such touching scenes.
Glenn, this was utterly believable. Wow.
-David
How unique and beautiful, the hazel tree as an imaginary sister who gave comfort in times of loss!
This is beautifully crafted prose .... the story engaging, producing deep emotion. Deep.
Wonderful!
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