By Jenna Holland (poetic_angel@gurlmail.com)
Date: 20 November 2000
Tree Talk
Look at me,
With my
Thin, brittle branches
Reaching out to you
As the wind
Whips away at
The only thing
I have left to give
My leaves,
They hold strong
Giving confidence to
My weaker parts
Fighting back
Until out of season.
I shed my outside
And bare my soul
I am naked and exposed
Turning over a new leaf
My dreams flutter to the ground
Your shadow lightly passes over them
Peacefully,
Beckoning skyward
Dying,
As the season changes
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