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She's trying.
Yes, for one more spring;
one last time
for remembering.
The lady
walks still 'neath its limbs
and brushes fewer leaves;
she cries within.
For once
the tree she shared with him,
beneath a cloak of love.
But now the tree...and he
speak only from above.
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Author Notes
Sometimes one says goodbye to many other things that remind us of that person.
Sometimes it's best; unsaid.
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