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Editing Instructions
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The Oak Tree
Where a window slopes
Steeply down my solitary eye
And leaves reline my brows
An oak tree holds a green devotion.
I am that tree trembling as I think,
A fresh spring sprays my branches
My leafy eyes inspire the day
Then fold expiring at night.
Through branches swinging in the wind
The lights like candles are my eyes
My bridal couch lies in the hole
My green bride steps slowly to me
Howl no more you envious hounds.
The green tree is my bride and me
We briefly merge and soon are shed
Truncated felled in memory.
Solly Jacobson 1953
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