| A Winter-Summer Standing now, as half a tree, I am freezing in the wind and rigid in the heat. Nothing will move me, nothing will knock me, because I can be still, patient, unfeeling, careless, motionless. My branches stay in the middle; my top never gets too tall. Winter has come in my summer and frozen me with frost dripping out of my leaves onto the passerbys. I merely am, I merely live, as you might wish me to be. |
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