Making Friends
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I walked out to a cottonwood
Who lives out in the hay
And since he had no livelihood
Decided I would stay
A root of his became my chair
He sighed and gently swayed
As silently he cleaned the air
I rested in his shade
I told him 'bout my neighborhood
The miles I walked each day
But if he cared in all likelihood
I knew he'd never say
Though it was just a short affair
His kindness was displayed
And as I left I was aware
A new friend had been made
Daniel Turner
Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2020
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