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Letter From A Potato

Decent Essays
The Letter From a Tree
By: A Potato

I sat. A sapling in your tiny hands. Seeing your youthful face gleaming at me with half-moon eyes. You smiled at the sight of me, stroking my mud soaked leaves. I trembled at the touch of your small, callused hand. You were careful. Your father, a man with a weathered face the color of chestnuts, put me in your grasp. I remember your face, tongue out in childish concentration, as you lowered me into my earthy home. You smiled once you had finished, an innocent smile. It was beautiful. I watched as you raced inside your house, a house that screamed the names of my ancestors. I remember the day you walked onto a yellow monster that opened it’s jaws to you. You climbed into it’s stomach and the jaws closed. It ran off with you each day, but it always brought you back. I supported you as you and your friends piled into my arms, reaching for my fruit.
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Your face was empty from emotion. I comforted you with my rough skin to your back. She never came back. I swayed in the wind as you packed boxes into a machine and left. Your mother's tears stained my skin that day. I remember the smile you carried when you came home after four years. You carried a paper in your hands proudly. Soon your parents left and in their place you brought children. Their round faces dripped with my fruit. I held them as they climbed me, you watched. I whispered to the shadows, just as I had for you, keep them cool keep them cool. I waved to the wind as it passed, my skin still rough. I breathed and knew that it brought you life. I was born, but a sapling, so innocent, so pure. I saw you and my heart filled. I had watched you grow, coming and going with new people. I felt love. I remember as you walked towards me for the last time, a metal beast wrapped around your hands. Your skin glowed brown in the sun. I opened my arms to you, but you turned away as my leaves rustled in the
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