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Sometimes on summer evenings I step
Out of my house to look at trees
Propping darkness up to the silence.
~A Final Affection by Paul Zimmer
As branches thudded to the ground, the arborist said, “It’s beginning to look like a tree.”
Of course, it was always a tree, so it always had looked like one, but now it conforms to neighborhood standards, through no choice of its own.
What shapes you?