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12h
i listen in
to the whisper of the trees-
like a silence that the earth
can’t quite hold,
words that try to be secrets
kept between the land and the sky
but the wind grips my sap-stained palms
and the branches reach into my soul
like bones crawling out of a grave
and into the air
quietly
but there.
wrote this at a poetry workshop
Written by
lyla
46
     Dency, star, Liana, Chips and Mary Huxley
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