The leaf grew.
And it gathered up the sunlight… And it gave it to the the tree… And with it, it gave life…
The leaf grew old And died.
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What about me? I’m a dreamer, I’m a writer, I’m a musician….I’m a pomegranite. The rest is mostly breath and ashes. ps. Arion – this is all your fault. [disclaimer: it’s just poetry, friends. not reality.]
