Love hearts
etched into the bark
of our childhood oak,
recumbent seat for lovers
and climbing frame for children.
The wind has no luck
With our sturdy roots.
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Love hearts
etched into the bark
of our childhood oak,
recumbent seat for lovers
and climbing frame for children.
The wind has no luck
With our sturdy roots.
1 comment
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November 28, 2009 at 6:47 pm
Akeith Walters
very good poem, Daryl. I like this one a lot.