1313
6.viii.23
4.219
a tree as old as me
and might be
met at any age
there has
always been one
and there will
always be
I have stored
up in
like leaf for
roof
everyone’s
home
veils of smoke
fall through the proper rain
my house is
timber too
and now,
advancing
these few whom
I preserve
with watching
with do no
harm
by territory
with that
terrible word ‘mine’
and knowing
the fearful summer we’ve made
I wish for
them to survive me
that others
may walk
in their shade
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