The Tree
The Tree Men come so rarely these days that I almost
couldn't believe he was in my back yard.
When he was near enough, he rested, motionless for a moment and took
stock of the situation. I reverently
waited for him to speak.
“You've done well with my idiot brothers,” he said.
“It makes me so happy to hear you say that," I responded, glancing at the other trees in the yard, "I take care of them the best I can.”
“I thank you for that.
Keep telling them that I love them.
I fear I will not be back for a long time.”
He made a slow circle and began to lumber back the way he
came.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
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