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Back Yard Trees They are an argument for going slow, these maple trees. My parents, still young themselves planted them here as saplings-- they brought them west from Kansas in cut-off milk cartons on the car floor between my mother's feet. I was still a child. Now I am growing old, but the maples are young still. They are an argument for going slow, these trees, for taking each winter as it comes, berimed with snow, each summer breathing green breezes, each noontime, each moonrise, shading tenderly the grass beneath your feet. |
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