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Richard Grahn Oct 2017
Treasured friend, reach out your arms
And lift me up into your boughs
Share with me a memory
Here beneath the wispy clouds

Cradle me with tender sprigs and
Rock me gently in the breeze
Caress my soul with autumn dreams
And let me rest here in your peace
Sierra Earle Nov 2014
The bough of the tree
extends in such a way
that would imply
it wants another tree to hold
but,
in a way
it is grasping
for its mother;
sun.
Just like when
a baby extends
its tiny arm
towards a giant
mom.

— The End —