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Emily Brien
Poems
Aug 2010
The Willow Tree
Drooping bows,
Touch the ground,
With time they grow,
The willow’s woes.
His downcast arms,
Mean no harm,
Just to say,
“Keep away."
"I will weep in wetted soil,
Lest your pant legs become soiled,
Keep away! Keep away!”
Written by
Emily Brien
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