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stilly

The tree outside my window

stands in the same place

everyday

slowly growing stilly

Branching out,

stretching towards to the sun

seemingly miles tall,

yet started out so small.

This giant towering above me

shaped itself out of a tiny seed

that is dwarfed by the palm of my hand.

Day by day,

Soaked in rain,

I watch it rising slowly over time

wavering in the breeze,

still rooted securely into the ground.

The trunk is thicker than than the whole of my arms around it,

bark bearing scars,

a secret history.

I know if I were to cut it open,

the inside will reveal neatly concentric rings.

Now it's cold

naked branches shiver without their leaves.

it stands before me exposed and barren,

but surviving

Will you still stand when I rest




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