Pruning The Tree

Pine branch pruned
sticky scent
My back is bowed
as the trunk is bent
We lean together
You and me ewe
We reach together
stretch to blue
dead branch cleared
lets in light
disperse tension
gravity fight
Still,
We lean together
You and me ewe
We reach together
stretch to blue
It's a futile strain
we'll both fall to dirt
ah! meantime

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poem by Timothy Grant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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