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Feb 2013
I pity the trees
at the mercy of
an unsettled sky.
Upwards they grow
to comfort her,
catching her tears
readily, like a tissue.
She will ignore their
kindness and rain
again, but trees
live for the moments
that she runs dry
to allow a fleeting glimpse
of the sun.
Katie Young
Written by
Katie Young  New York
(New York)   
495
   Emily Reardon
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