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Tim Worden

The Unwavering Tree

Orange and yellow sunrise
That showned over the tree
Oscillating, moving its eyes
And flying nearby was a bee

The wind was blowing
The only noise in the country-side
And the tree was moving
Forward and back, side to side

A man was walking towards the farm
Consumed, forlorn, anxious
Constantly looking at the watch on his arm
Too busy to see the walking tree which was conspicuous

And when he finally realized something was there
All he saw was a tree; unmoving and bare

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