I gaze at the bare tree, closely,
Looking for signs of the green
Which I know is there inside,
Now all wrapped-up, unseen,
Inside the bark, the green will hide
From February's cold, until
The warming time, it will abide,
And I know its secret, I know,
But am unable to accelerate
How quickly the green will grow,
As earth will take its own sweet
Time to nurture in the melting snow.
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