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plant me
in the warmest spot
where sunlight spills to earth
face me north
and spread my branches
sing that I might
the ancient rites of wind
that I might feel
the whispers
sweet glad tidings
of the night

snare me
with your ribbons
your cares of yesterday
keep me
as the place you come
to pray
in silence
let me witness
the musings of your soul –
dress me up
with stories
never told

share me
with rememberings
of once a noontide kiss
a late night tear
when no one knew
to listen
a moonlight dance
of sweet embrace
welcoming your sighs
as branches bent
to shield you
from the echoes
of goodbye

. . .