Gnarley

She stands
Gnarley and old
Fruitless
Leafless
Arms withered and pale
Gray
Against the clouded morn
She stands
Nothing left
Of what she was
Her hopes
Of what would become
And yet
There
All around
Are the truths
Those pale green shoots
Of hope
Of making a difference
Touching the future
Handing down
Her
Heart
To all of the tomorrows

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