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The Tree Continued
2.
Here is a tree drowsing;
there she is, walking along the trail.
She is singular, thinks the tree,
a human, out in the heat, without a dog.
Humans, like dogs and birds, are pests, the tree thinks
heat makes humans smell most foul.
She has walked too far into the mid-west sun,
too far away from the university.
She lets out a sigh of relief
after laying her cheek against the trunk
its thick bark. The tree is learning it can offer relief,
if not to itself, to another, and that is a sort of power.
She is not nesting or shitting; she is only
resting; she and the tree together.
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