The Moya View
Let me lie here and knowwhy over this ground this apple tree makes a long shadowand a light sound.For a moment death will wait,but this tree will not,nor will it mourn for me when there is sweet birdsong all around.My sapling moment has passed, my winter comes and I have climbed and shaken every boughand know the fruit within.
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JONATHAN MOYA
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Excellent imaging as always
Very good poem! I love the imagery.
Thanks.
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