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We May Sway but Never Crack
We are intertwined
like the branches of an old oak
swaying in the wind,
creaking from the weight of all its years,
but still standing tall.
Birds and racoons burrow in
this tree’s warm branches,
against the bitter winter frost.
Kids climb the rough trunk
playing pirates and kings
breaking off the bark
pulling out the leaves.
The world tugs, and pulls,
sending branches cascading,
still we stand
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