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lightning struck
and a sparrow fell
into the nurturing arms of the great oak
the branches grew and grew
and it built a home.
and eighteen years of fair weather
blessed the bond
built in the roots so deep, so strong
in every vesicle, a memory.
but one fowl storm
and the branches gave way
to drop the sparrow in its sleep.
trust is earned
but life is short
and i can no longer fly.
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