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Magnolia Tree |
a quiet hush
then from neath the brush
a rabbit or two
hip hop and doo doo.
Up comes the wind
fiercely recind
the warmth and the light
returns to night.
Cold rushes in
the withers begin
then suddenly strikes
the sun with its spikes
of heat and sweat
your brow is wet.
The blooms they fade
only to be made
shrivels on the grass.