Learning to Write in a New Language

The huge elm lay on its side in front of my house like a capsized ship. It was still alive, still breathing, saturated with enough water to last maybe a few days. But after Hurricane Sandy, there was a hole in the sky where it once stood. I reached my hand into a gash in the trunk, as if to comfort the tree. I understood about being uprooted. Just a few months earlier, I’d moved from my native Holland to America. I’d looked forward to this new life and its possibilities.