Satirical Dances

For all of his branches

The way they hold fast in a breeze

For all his expanses

Roots anchor to bedrock, he cleaves

For nature’s advances

Battered, poisoned, soil stained and steeped

Satirical dances

Mourning most at his loss of leaf

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"The greatest danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it." - Michelangelo

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Poetry, haiku, tanka, and micropoetry

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