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The Tree's Seasons

Beatles crawl across my skin,
The wind pushes against my limbs,
The sun beats down on my flesh,
Time passes and I take breath.

Squirrels prance upon my crown,
I dance and I dip down,
My roots dig deep into the ground,
Time goes by and I breathe.

Seasons change,
They come and go,
And I change my colors,
To go with the flow,
Gold and green,
And red and brown,
Waving in the sky and falling to the ground.

I wake and stretch,
I grow,
I slow,
And last I sleep.




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