27 Sept: This Price of It

Old tree, deformed. Produced by AI Midjourney bot
The Price of It 

I'm writing this on a piece of paper 
that was once a tree, cut down and  
ground and pulped, and made into 
something else that trees don't know 
is a necessity of life. Like a loo roll. 

First grade: I'm writing on black slate 
with chalk. Circles round and round. 
Straight lines. Grasped hard, chalk 
white as knuckles. I broke more chalk 
than hearts, that's for certain. 

Don't waste paper, Mum said. 
She knew everything has its price. 

For Earthweal ekphrasis challenge. Image and poem Β©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter

8 responses to “27 Sept: This Price of It”

  1. I’m sure the tree feels it was a worthwhile sacrifice πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ah yes. The wisdom of mothers. I have thought a lot recently about slates and how re-usable they were. With mass production came mass consumption and everything disposable. Now our slates are electronic and I’m not sure of the virtue of that.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That writing slate was nearly 70-years ago, Worms, and the world has moved on since then. iPads and phones with batteries; cars with batteries; houses cladded with plastic. I once had a radio with transistor tubes and bulbs that warmed up before they functioned. It’s not always easy to know where to draw the line.

      Liked by 2 people

  3. Thanks Misky, quite thought provoking stuff! πŸ€”πŸ€”πŸ‘πŸ‘ The cost and origins of the materials we use to write and interact!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re very welcome Misky! πŸ˜πŸ‘

        Liked by 1 person

  4. Chalk, paper, keyboard; none of that matters, Misk, as long as you keep writing beautiful works like this. Thanks.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I second that sentiment ❀️


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