maturing trees
conspired to shed
their load of seeds
bending their branches
under a swollen sky
and blessing the earth
with a new generation
for the coming year
maturing trees
conspired to shed
their load of seeds
bending their branches
under a swollen sky
and blessing the earth
with a new generation
for the coming year
sad. queer. can't stop won't stop writing.
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i loved the idea of ‘new generations’. this is a great thought and an excellent poem.
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Thank you Andrew ЁЯЩВ
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