ethel’s words

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Silver Tree

The leaves were silver and the tree was gold. Leaves that refused to fall were emerald.

Let, then, the tree be ebony and leaves be jade green. Let apples sprout on every branch; let them be edible and each one fragrant.

Let the birds come. Their small jet eyes seeming to see objects that were not there.

Let this tree remain. Let it be a monument. Let it stay.

Beautiful is the outline of the tree and lovely is its stance.

Ethel C. Hale