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Rated: E · Poetry · Home/Garden · #2314536
A short poem about the wind.
As the wind blows through my garden,
I see the trees wave hello to me,
Their green fingers swaying.

As the wind blows through my garden,
I watch as the flowers bend over to smell the grass,
Before staring at the sky once again.

As the wind blows through my garden,
I see the soil learn to fly,
Little brown specks in the air.

As the wind blows through my garden,
I realise that,
This garden is alive.
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