Vineyard
I once walked past an apple tree.
To some degree more free than me.
While I was walking, the tree could not.
Still it was swaying a bit, nodded and rocked.
Wind journeyed towards us.
Hailing cheerlessly, waking me up.
I noticed I had become like a statue
- glued to the spot.
It took some wind to find, rewind and unwind.
Before the chilling breeze hit, I was unable to admit
that the tree was merely resting; not caring a bit.
















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