mom
Before me stands a birch tree tall, strong and lean. Although less sap runs through it branches becoming brittle it never droops but ever reaches for the sky. The trunk is solid unbending but from it every year new branches grow swaying easy in the ever changing winds. The bark black pearls on white parchment peels adding majesty. Leaves dance in a multitude of colors red, yellow, orange carpet its base. I collect as many as I can inside my book of memories.
patricia gavigan
@ 1994 | ||
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