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The last tree
It is the time of the year
When he stands purely naked
Somehow He lost
his evergreen underwear
The last tree
Standing still
Until the last kill
by a chain saw
Sliced down right to the core
His seeds he did sow
As he eagerly awaits the branches
of his offsprings to grow
In the middle of the night
I hear him whispering
I hear him talk
Then he tried to walk
Hindered by his own roots
beneath his foot
It is time to flee
It is time to be free
He is still standing
as the last tree
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem
by
Sylvia Chidi
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