11:00 a.m. - Monday, Aug. 05, 2002
forest
A forest of poets, of dreamers

Whose sap feeds the inside walls of my soul

...as though it had limits

Whose green leaves clothe and heal

...as though I had lack of pure sustenance, of covering

Whose rough bark covers and protects

...as though I needed interior safety

...as though I was not quite ready to face

the world

.....elissaberry

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