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Wall, echoing their grief. . . the tall green willow. . . rooted beside a stream
With my patients
I am a steel vault
guarding their secrets,
a stone from the Wailing
Wall, echoing their grief,
the tall green willow,
rooted beside a stream
that cuts the flank
of Lenox Mountain
and soaks up sweet
water washed over
the earth’s dark heart,
building bark to protect
myself from a hundred
patient winters.