Which of the trees in this wood
is 38 years old?
(or whatever that is in tree-years)
Does anyone even care?
Do trees ponder with existential angst
why here? why now? what for?
Do they feel too rooted,
or too swayed by the breeze?
Or are they merely existential:
warm hope in the Spring
cool shade in the Summer
sharp beauty in the Fall
stark strength in the Winter
Bearing witness to the world
until they fall over.
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