It isn’t there anymore, that ancient oak,
once the school logo, before the school
climbed the status ladder
from community college to university
The tree was across from the library, between it and the low-slung classroom buildings, old warehouses from the sixties,
across from the historic buildings, lawn where I would spread my blanket, barefoot, and read and write my way to my bachelor’s degree,
and the performing arts theater, where I had violin recitals as a child, attended plays as a student, and took humanities classes in the adjacent rooms.
When it rained, I was in the library, smoking on the second floor with the bound periodicals and government documents
or up on the third floor, in the stacks.
I could always see the tree,
Arsenal Oak.
My undergraduate campus was a Confederate arsenal (my grad school started the war, but that’s a different tree and story).
The tree was diseased, I was on the phone, from grad school
with my writing professor when they cut it down.
I still have a piece of it.
You can’t see its roots or branches,
but I feel them, every time I write.
Ambrose Bierce enjoyed writing under this same tree.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me, but I'm slowly stepping out of my comfort zone. Watch me grow!
MA English literature, College of Charleston
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Keep reading
More stories from Harper Lewis and writers in Poets and other communities.
Spiders
I have a spider in my shower. I have taken a shower in there three times despite this knowledge and it haunts me between each drop of water, each brush against the wall or showerhead. I do not know where it lurks. I saw it once and since then it has maintained a steady hidden location, to which my eyes only half-heartedly search.
By Logan Stanislawa day ago in Poets
Comments (14)
In retrospect, it was Stephen Vincent Benet, not Ambrose Bierce. Deepest apologies for my error. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/stephen-vincent-benet
Powerful tree (as most trees are), but what a connection in your life remembrances! A blessing to have trees like that in our lives (ask me how I know 😁) Congratulations on your win!
This was wonderful. That tree was more than a tree, for sure. I love that you have a piece of it. This reminded me of the day I watched them tear down the old library on my campus and cried. I didn't realize how much I loved the musty old building until I saw it's demise. Congratulations on a very well deserved Runner-up placement.
Congratulations, Harper!
Yay! Congratulations on your story being selected as a Runner Up. Great win and great story that is much deserving. Well done.
Wooohooooo congratulations on your win! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
Congrats! this is still one of your best!
Congratulations on runner-up!
Many many stories born of this tree. Thank you, Harper, for sharing parts of your life with us. I think it's quite lovely that you studied violin as a child. Congratulations on your win!❤
This is quietly powerful. The way the oak becomes a witness to learning, loss, and becoming.
I love the way the tree threads through your memory, education, and identity. Powerful stuff!
Wow! You wrote under the same tree as Ambrose Bierce? That must really be inspirational. I have written short stories taking themes from such stories as Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge. And if you graduated from the place that began the Civil War it must have been one of the batteries in Charleston Harbor that bombarded Fort Sumter. Unless you mean some other incident. Also love the way you spread your blanket, barefoot, and read and wrote your way to your bachelor’s degree. All of this really came through in your wonderful appreciative verse. Though trees may fall down or be cut down I wonder if they ever really die. Glad you managed to keep a piece. Really well done.
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This is fucking sublime. Seriously. The way you prompted me to read this by saying you "slid" it in downplays the heart, soul, roots and branches of this. A definite favourite of yours for me. Well fucking done. Definitely a winner in my eyes.
Thats some white tree of Gondor shit right there