In the woods
Two trees stand
Equally rooted
Firmly in the ground.
Yet as if deciding
It a curse of solitude
To try and touch a Sky
Who never reached back,
One turned
To touch the other,
Leaning its trunk
Against its forest mate’s.
And so, we found them,
Standing as lovers,
One resting upon the other,
Limbs entwined in embrace.
We turned.
Walked down the trail,
leaning toward each other,
our hands touching.
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