41
 
I robbed the Woods—
The trusting Woods.
The unsuspecting Trees
Brought out their Burs and mosses
My fantasy to please.
I scanned their trinkets curious—I grasped—I bore away—
What will the solemn Hemlock—
What will the Oak tree say?

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Autómata de sueños Chris P lilianacruzguillen@hotmail.com Prakash Mackay Дэлгэрмаа Цагаанчулуу Aldair Acevedo