Age
Stood beneath oak trees among shadowed tracks - roots jutting from the ground; claws of nature reaching to grasp these wrists and hold firmly. The grimness of age - the dark, indefinite yawn of canopy.
Look out to the plains - see other boys play among the saplings. How carefree - light playing on skin; young stars floating through sun. There is sadness too.
One day, they will only see shadow and root - they will grow gnarled and twisted as the bark of their trees. One day, they will understand this:
To know there is no wisdom to be gained beneath the boughs - only confusion, only questions
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