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| Tim Walker |
I see the dark clouds approach:
leaves from the tree are falling
I look at the tree, punctured
with holes and thinning its last pieces
Once, the tree opened with green,
preserving me in milky sunshine but
now it's shedding eczema skin
I feel more fragile beneath the tree,
loosening itself from past memories
But while the storm comes, I find
myself hoping this giving tree has
a few more memories left to gather rain
Written: 9/16/10
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