Maple Tree Monologue
Recommended: Maple tree monologues
In Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns the historical context unravels before the eyes of the reader as time grows more modern. When reading the story one sees that many things have changed over time. One may witness that the use of automobiles are just coming about, along with the use of indoor plumbing. As the story goes along, the author explains the historical context of a small southern town in 1906.
his comeback, I was dispatched to George Cherry’s boxing club to watch him work out. After he had finished and showered, we adjourned to a neighbourhood greasy spoon for an amiable, two-hour chat. As we were about to leave, Lafleur asked about an old friend: “So how is Red Fisher?” “Red is Red,” I said, the only accurate description of the man I could ever manage.
Displeased her pretty dress was covered in blood and tomato juice, she had stripped down to nothing and had begun to walk away from the scene of the crime. The guards charged her with indesentcy and destruction of property after trying to restrain the young Fae and she knocked over the dead man 's tomato stand in her attempt to run away. Garbbed in cloaks of forest green with the city 's symbol of a bear in black on the arm, the guards moved the Fae and murderer to the cells. Covered in a coat five sizes too big for her because she wouldn 't put the soiled dress back on, she sat on the cool ground of the cell. Metal bars seperated her and her book and the burnt orange eyes that thirsted for knowledge found their way upon the killer of the tomato man.
At its core, “The Black Walnut Tree” is a conflict between the sentimental and what practically needs to be done. Throughout the poem, the author utilizes a very matter-of-fact and almost dismissive tone as the daughter and her mother debate whether or not to sell the tree and finish paying off a loan that they owe. As the poem progresses, this matter-of-fact tone transitions into figurative language as the black walnut tree takes on a more symbolic view. Mary Oliver shows in “The Black Walnut Tree” that the tree symbolizes the family’s heritage and all that their father has sought to accomplish, and, while the mortgage weighs down the family, cutting down and selling the tree would, in a sense, betray the family and what it stands for. Written in free verse, “The Black Walnut Tree” takes a straight forward and casual approach to the topic and is most apparent
"Damnit, Johnny… Oh damnit, Johnny, don 't die, please don 't die." Johnny was the main reason I was still alive. Call him my life tank or whatever but it was the truth. I was proud of him and I never could tell him.
One day my sister Dakota, my uncle Raven, my mom, and I went to a farm the day before Halloween. At first we were just going to get a few pumpkins but then, I saw a corn maze. I asked my mom “ Can we go in it, please,” My mom said,” If it is free.” I told her thanks. We went to a pumpkin patch to get a couple pumpkins.
Hey Mama, I love visiting Aunt Rachel in Maycomb. There is a girl here and hoowee is she sumthin’. Her name is Scout and she lives with her dad, Atticus, her brother, Jem,and her housekeeper Calpurnia. Scout is the coolest girl there is in Maycomb, and I want to marry her when I get older. I met her and Jem because Aunt Rachel is the Finch's’ neighbor.
I was having so much fun with the cold wind on my cheeks and was laughing the whole way down until I got some snow in my eyes that limited my vision. I began to panic which kept me from hearing my mom saying, “ JUMP!!! JUMP!!! ” I was clueless to the fact that I was headed for a tree. Down the hill I went and straight into the tree.
INTRO I have done it. I have brought upon the death of another man! I have blood upon my hands. For that I feel I should have changed but desperation has replaced the sorrow I feel for my actions.
" I rolled my eyes. " Fine! Tie my head to the tree! NOW GET. MY.
The ice cold snow melts onto my face, I laugh at myself and hope to god the people around me didn’t see that. No one was paying attention to me they all had this type of confidence and excitement to learn and grow. I stood back up and headed down the hill with all force, not knowing how to turn I abruptly put my snowboard on healedge and slammed to a stop. Little did I know I was already halfway down the hill.
I let out a deep breath and pulled up my rose bandana to the bridge of my nose and adjusting my red ombre wig. Rolling down the window to my right I reached a red-gloved hand out for the traditional handshake before a race. A big man, who called himself Dagger. “Rose,” He grumbled. Although I was still new to racing, apparently I was very widely known.
I stand there paralyzed with fear, my heart beating faster than a hummingbird's wings. out of nowhere the woman pulls out a ruby encrusted dagger. I freeze. "Don't hurt me!" I rasp, "I can be on your side!"
When the wind begins to nip at your face, when the sky becomes a light grey, when all life seems to be hidden away, one knows that there is a high chance of snow. Plants seem to lose their color and become as barren as that of the sky. Animals and humans seem to burrow up from the cold weather outside. But one can only anticipate the white flurry substance coming from the sky. Snow is a magical thing.
The cool, upland air, flooding through the everlasting branches of the lively tree, as it casts a vague shadow onto the grasses ' fine green. Fresh sunlight penetrates through the branches of the tree, illuminating perfect spheres of water upon its green wands. My numb and almost transparent feet are blanketed by the sweetness of the scene, as the sunlight paints my lips red, my hair ebony, and my eyes honey-like. The noon sunlight acts as a HD camera, telling no lies, in the world in which shadows of truth are the harshest, revealing every flaw in the sight, like a toddler carrying his very first camera, taking pictures of whatever he sees. My head looks down at the sight of my cold and lifeless feet, before making its way up to the reaching arms of an infatuating tree, glowing brightly virescent at the edges of the trunk, inviting a soothing, tingling sensation to my soul.
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Summary Of Cold Sassy Tree
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