Life is in a tale's breathing
A told tree story's survival the ear yearns
one that leaves branches cones
and readers overturned
The clumps, burrs and bumps
Of an impatient trunk
Branches curve awkwardly upward
A gum as sticky as my poetic word
Within it's bowls and balls are closed hands
holding the sky to the earth
And the puzzle to existence in it's grip
Five keen eyes in it's grain, a Magnetar
Indeed Sirius' sons and daughters
Emulating the greatness of the night sky
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