A Tree Speaks To Me Comments

Today, gusts of wind rush through the leaves of a solitary magnolia. It sounds like the ocean surf. Or a thousand hands clapping. Or the sudden downpour of a heavy summer rain. Dreamy. Romantic.

Or maybe it's something sad—like an empty barn with a rotten loft and ladder. Rickety. Weather-beaten. Missing planks like missing teeth. Another tooth, the loss of youth. The movement of air mourning for what is no longer there. Haunted.
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