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Writer's pictureTanya Master

Maple tree



I fell away

the same way

the leaves would fall

from the maple tree

in the backyard

of my childhood home

until He cut her down

the very same day

I became a women

I bleed for her

with every returning cycle of the moon

for the sap that will never again

leak from her trunk

for the maple leaves

that will never again

have the chance to plummet down into the autumn ground

to decay

to fertilise the earth

I don’t mourn over her anymore

I realised yesterday

the end of her time

was the start of my bloom


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