Sunday, September 11, 2016

Contra-distinction

Look my child,
The tree shed all the leaves
Revealing the twists and turns,
yanks and curls,
Knots and nodes
Of branches and twigs.
It was all warped beneath
The green roundish wrap cover.. you see.
No dad, she tells me
It is your warped mind that sees that.
I don't. I still see the green.
May be. I say.

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