A perfectly-manicured crescent moon hung in the predawn sky this morning, reminding me for reasons I don't quite know of a poem my younger son wrote when he was nine:
THE VERY BIG TREES
The very big trees Are in my backyard. I visit them every day So they won't get lonely. They give me shade And keep me dry from rain. I can climb them And get delicious fruit -- The most delicious fruit. -- Ives Fisher
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