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Galway Trees

I stroll nonchantly by

on my evening walking ritual. 

They barely notice me

with bowed heads

sharing their secrets

with the birds

of how they got there. 


I do not question

or consume their story, 

I do not want to become

a transferred of stories. 

They are just there-

like a relic of medieval patriarchy

the way I like it.

And off I stroll. 


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