The Years of Nature
As a child my tree was covered in shimmering and golden blossom.
As a teenager
roots spread, grew away from home
to pastures anew.
Now that I am aged and look at my past,
with aching bark as time flows by fast,
that once shining blossom has turned to red leaf,
my grass burnt in the sun that was far too brief.
(June 2023)
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