The lightning tree

We called it the lightning tree. Stunted and blackened it stood resolute, stark against the moon-bright night, while shooting stars circled wildly over the soft, velvet plain. Here we farmed, here cattle roamed over long-stemmed grass and here we were happy. but drought-stricken landthirsted for seven summers:grass withered, we fled. The lightning tree still stands, … Continue reading The lightning tree