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Trees beckon to her-
their shapes, their colors,
how they catch/throw shadows.
The light behind them, onto them
reminds her of ... an afternoon
a trip to a place she can't remember.

if she could grab them, put them in watercolor relief
and save them, they would be hers-
for a while.
When she sees the trees, on the road, at the edge of a small town, on the side of a hill
they call- to her.
"Bring us to you, in your notebook, take us home."

She stops in her tracks.

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