Poetry

Writing Tree

Day in, day out
my trade enhances
with each marked
out word, ink stain,
and diluted thoughts.

My writing is like a tree
each leaf a new fan,
each ring a new poem,
all growing strong.

Hours spent making
the defective poems,
not yet has anyone
burned my tree.

I must be doing
something right,
if my tree grows
stronger each day.

 

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