Yesterday a man came to plant my tree
(I’d left a golden chain behind
Two houses ago, and longed to have another).
He did a lovely job: dug deep, and fertilized,
And staked it well. But look:
How fragile it appears against the sky,
And how its beauty glows
When seen from a different perspective.
Perhaps we, too, appear diminished
When viewed in isolation,
Our true stature only visible
In the context of our peers…?
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