The Tree
The tree is here, still, in pure stone,
as cold as the night that has found me alone
No glory to crown, no branch to bend down
No cradles for sparrows to shelter their young
Not even one leaf to drift in the wind---
Mourning the death, hear the nightingale's song
_______________________________
Carrie Richards 7/26//15
For Nette's Contest: Complete These Lines"
The tree is here, still in pure stone ....Pablo Neruda
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