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sanctuary

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I drove past the tree that saved me many times when I was so young it reached it's limbs and called me in and I would wile away the hours watching the world move below blind to my hiding place I held tight as the cruel older kids walked by looking for me to belittle and abuse my friend has withered in the waning years his bold trunk now dry and hunched his strong broad reaching arms now drooped by his side I'm not sure on which limb I carved my initials or what side I buried those baseball cards in a sandwich bag and my Dad's cigar box he got me through those early years my sanctuary my protector I catch a final glimpse in the rear view I have to smile as it looks as if his top limb waves to me but I know it's just the breeze



© Deckard
2018-06-10

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