I will wait, said wood, and it did.
Ten years, a hundred, a thousand, a million—
It did not matter. Time was not its measure,
Not its keeper, nor its master.
Wood was trees in those first days.
And when wood sang, it was leaves,
|2017||Is It True All Legends Once Were Rumors||Carl Phillips|
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|2017||Exhibit 1||Susan Barba|