DT 01 en 31

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               T R E E S
               T R E E S
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THIS  POEM  ACTUALLY  WAS WRITTEN BY ONE
OF  MY  (MANY)  COUSINS,  BUT  HE AGREED
PUBLISHING  IT  HERE  IN  DT  (THANKS!).

        The spirit of the trees
           reaches out to me.
        What's it trying to say?

        The rustle of the leaves
         scatters my believes.
        I'm born anew this May.
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      Like the rest of the world,
       I believed the common word
      that the tree is truly dead.

         But now that I behold,
  I don't believe what I've been told,
        my minds no longer lead.







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