A Poem on a Little Pine
A tiny little pine tree, still shorter than the fence,
every branch, every leaf bearing the bitter cold.
Now is the best time to see it, with your head
at a comfortable angle:
one day, it will pierce the sky,
and you'll have to strain your neck!
every branch, every leaf bearing the bitter cold.
Now is the best time to see it, with your head
at a comfortable angle:
one day, it will pierce the sky,
and you'll have to strain your neck!
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