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Synopsis of Trees
Before sleeping I walked toward the backyard
Crouching to ward off many demons.
Moving forward to attack
My windows were the wicker eyes of a madman.
What was I doing out there in the dark
So distant from dreams? Wet
From the precious soil.
The trees, like dendrites,
Waiting for a synaptic transmission.
Waiting for fiery frisson.
No one to dance with;
We danced with the wind.
What were those trees doing out there?
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