The Buckthorn Tree
The leaves rustle on the ground
All the trees bare
Except the old buckthorn tree, which is still sprouting green leaves
Since I was young the buckthorn was a thing of magic and mystery
Its tangled branches and twisted roots grew larger and larger just as I did
I still look up to the tree
I look at it's green leaves, tangled branches, and twisted roots
I wonder what sort of stories it could tell if it could speak
All the years it grew and grew and watched me grow and grow
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