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I am a tree, and when you touch me,
My human child,
It does horrible things to me.
Infects my bark, pollutes my sap
And for a decade I’m dizzy.
I am a tree, and you my human child,
Are the wrong species for me.
Perhaps a lovely shrub or even a little Anemone,
Would be a passing comfort to me.
A little bird to roost snugly in my arms,
Has its undoubted charms.
But you my human child,
You are the wrong species for me.
Yet I yearn, over the century, so much for your company.
Though you, my human child,
Are the wrong species for me.
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Jack Lashbrook
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Comments
Trees & Breeze Zorica Vukovic | Sep 20th, 2004
Maybe this is not the best verse of yours, but I'm prone to forgive you because I adore trees and think they are our older relatives. So it goes fine with me!
sappy melanie mae | Sep 10th, 2005
get it, sappy? no, this one is really touching, and shows your gentle side where the claws are no where to be seen.
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