Maple Tree.

Old maple tree. Beautiful old maple tree. I walk on the soft turf up to your trunk. Taking my time because I know you are patient and will wait for me. Oh, faithful maple tree. My fingers brush your rough bark. I dont think you were always so tough. Maybe you were soft and fleshy once, like me. What if the kids at school tormented you so much that you just put up a wall of wood and leaves? Will that happen to me too? My hand comes to a carving in your trunk. A scar. I look at the cuts all over my legs and arms. I remember my own scar, jutting across my cheek. A leaf falls as a tear rolls off my face. Both my tear and your leaf soar to the ground. Its alright. I will plant my own seed right next to you. Our roots will twist together. Our branches will reach toward the shy. Toward heaven. Oh old, beautiful, faithful, maple tree. I love you.

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