by Alexander Salas
Naked as a newborn, the giant leafless Oak gently sways from the southerly currents. A sudden blast of icy air battles the warm southern winds for supremacy. Like a tired boxer in the final round, winter sluggishly fights its inevitable demise.
Luke eyes the Oak. Motionless, he stands on the highway's shoulder. This is his first visit to the site where Jenny and little Luke lost their lives. Black ice and a massive trunk add up to death. Two deaths actually.
After the funerals, Luke decides to come here.
“Did they suffer?” Luke asks the tree. “What were their last words?”
Cloud cover brings a premature darkness. A balmy gust caresses Luke.
…hello honey, nice to see you again…
The tepid breeze blows continuously.
…it's alright honey, we're okay…daddy I saw grandma and grandpa…we're here always…and even grandpa's grandpa…I love you Luke…I love you too daddy…we'll be here babe…don't be sad daddy it doesn't hurt…we'll be together again Luke, I promise you…