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The Tree in the Front Yard

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In the past,
my friend was the tree in the front yard.
I would swing up its branches,
pat the smooth bark,
and slide down the trunk.
The leaves above would rustle friendly
and tell stories
while the wise tree
whispered songs to me.
In those days
I only had the sun
on my back
and the wind
by my side.
Now that I’ve grown up
I have a heavy load on my back
that weighs me down.
My violin, schoolwork,
and the race for time
has replaced
my carefree nature
so I can no longer
shimmy up my tree
with my old friends.
I can only sit on the dirt,
leaning against
the familiar, worn trunk
while the sun and wind
embrace me.
Once again,
I am playing
with my tree in the front yard.



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