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Winter Tree

Writer's picture: thewritingfountainthewritingfountain

You were a spade, A very short spade. With your branches You became a leaf.


The tiny branches connect Sharp crooked lines Trickling tiny dot Floating, in the sky.


You are ugly And weak Yet with subtle beauty You glitter.


Your frail lines and crooks Like veinlets Your beauty In death.


My death.

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