The tree on the mountain
Sprawling leaves like a fountain
So pleasant and green
Beckoning for me
To sit beside this tree
Home to bird and to bee
It’s old and gentle
Knots in its wood
Its branches are bent
It nearly speaks as if it could
This tree doesn’t judge me
Though wrongs I have done
It shines a sense of free
A sense of freedom
Posted in response to the challenge Setting.
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