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Summer Trees
December 27, 2012
The summer wind blows across my face, leaving me chilled.
The midnight moon shines so bright, the meadow is seen clear as day.
The trees, they speak as the wind howls through them.
They tell a story of joy and despair.
I listen, wondering if or how I should respond.
The wind dies before I can speak, ending their story.
But the moon still shines, bright as ever.
And I stand alone, looking at the stars.
© Emma C., Gardner, MA
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