In my heart, a high throne of cedar,
you had perched for a reverent moment,
before flying, fierce beak and feathers,
to the somber white field above the sea.
You disappeared, dot-like,
eventually exhausted,
you were taken by the swallowing
measured waves.
My deep roots seek the water table
and find there is too much earth;
My ripe branches will hover in saline air,
waiting only to meet the ocean.
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