This week, I have this really tall one for Becca’s Sunday Trees
the young uns
rustle and strain
eager to also
brush shoulders
with the sky
buffeted by winds
engulfed
in icy silence
bare branches
send a whisper
on a leaf
the sky
is just as far
from here
as from there
it is not about
how high you are
it is about how
deep you are.
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