by John S

I spent the day pruning a tree,
its branches wild, a sprawling siege

that overtook my space of yard
and lorded all the plants, as liege.
And in this time reshaping a tree,
my thoughts, some bits of poesy.
Its limbs removed, the trunk is scarred,
and the lowest branches out of reach.
And after cutting this creeping tree,
now left with a perfect symmetry,
the sunlight’s glim now reaches far
with spacial perspicuity.

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