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Winding through a forest
I see tiny creatures
Hiding from predators,
And a variety of plants and trees
In a habitat that forms a painting
More beautiful than we
Could ever paint.
Forests can comfort anyone
And in the forest it feels to me
That I fit in a forest story:
I am a hummingbird
Who flies above the canopy,
Rests in branches of an oak,
Watches other animals
Hide below in tunnels
Of forest green.
Time passes.
The forest grows
Becoming a library
Where answers to life’s questions
Might be.
Trees stretch up.
Forests expand and become
More perplexed than an algorithm.
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