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Proud Trees
The maple tree I pass in my car
is naked because a sin was
declared not by all but by one.
Its thick limbs
smooth and sexy
reflect morning light
erecting sails upon my car
to move me along.
The lush pine stands even
needling my leafless tree
still standing
pumping syrup
into a lifeless body
evicted from the Garden of Eden
as a sharpened ax anticipates heat.
poem
by
Martha Rogus
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