Feast of the Centenarians by Snipe
He holds
within his knurled hand
a seed
rolling it between fingers
he allows himself
this time to reminisce
Looking over his shoulder
over a century
of experiences
that trail behind him
like a desert caravan
Back
before he was delivered
to his Island home
he remembers-
the Hate
the Greed
the Wars-
He lowers his head
shoulders shaking
The Island accepts his tears
as he releases these brittle memories
Suddenly
a commotion-
There
at the garden gate
his
Great
Great
Great grand daughter
and her saurian playmate
She runs up the walk way
plowing into his lap
hugging with such ferocity
his breath catches up moments later
her friend
a young Oviraptor
notices what the child missed-
the Elders red rimmed eyes
and places a taloned hand
upon his shoulder
turning its head this way and that
watching for reactions
He smiles
and pats the raptors hand
who responds with a series
of tongue clicks and head bobs
his grand daughter beams
and presents him with a crown
of woven holly and periwinkle,
taking immense pride in her handiwork
He stands tall
raising his chin
with a monarchs dignity
and places the crown atop his head
With his royal entourage in tow
he marches
to where the rest of his descendents
are awaiting his arrival
There is to be a formal
celebration elsewhere
where all the Centenarians
of the area are brought together
to toast one another's health
and tell stories of days gone by-
He carefully kneels down
and whispers into his Grand daughters ear-
her eyes and mouth
Widen
She squeals and hugs the old man,
once again threatening his air supply
Then
she and her raptor friend
break from the group
and run for the tool shed
The rest of the family
look at each other with puzzled amusement
She returns winded
with shovel in hand
explaining,
between gasped breaths
that before the party
her and grandfather
are going to plant a Tree
The old man smiles slyly
and displays the seed in question
The family waits patiently
as the Old
and the Young
pick the perfect spot.
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