Pine needles Lying dead on the ground Aren’t forlorn For the loss of themselves Are the buds next spring Harboring the same souls As those decaying into Dry spears down below? Is this why They do not fear the fall?
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Pine needles Lying dead on the ground Aren’t forlorn For the loss of themselves Are the buds next spring Harboring the same souls As those decaying into Dry spears down below? Is this why They do not fear the fall?
