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In soil that I have not chosen in no one's shadow all myself I watch and hear the neighbours I can't get any closer My branches reach ever stronger, ever further Children climb in them They laugh and kiss themselves a future In soil that I have not chosen in no one's shadow I become rough and wrinkled In heat, snow and storm branches break and die They reach ever thinner and shorter Nests blow away to new trees For new loves
0
Apr 28, 2022
Apr 28, 2022 at 3:25 AM UTC
In soil that I have not chosen
In soil that I have not chosen in no one's shadow all myself I watch and hear the neighbours I can't get any closer My branches reach ever stronger, ever further Children climb in them They laugh and kiss themselves a future In soil that I have not chosen in no one's shadow I become rough and wrinkled In heat, snow and storm branches break and die They reach ever thinner and shorter Nests blow away to new trees For new loves
Collection "On living on"
Zywa
Written by
Amsterdam
Apr 28, 2022
Apr 28, 2022 at 3:25 AM UTC
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