My mother taught me to knit.
Back then, knitting was a necessity, not some artisan craft like it is today. She would get patterns from women's magazines and cheap wool from the market. She
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And live for hundred years long
From a tiny seed to a big wide trunk
Where there are floods never is sunk
From tiny twigs to dividing branches
Where leaves would sit and birds sing their song
A tree would stay and play its dances
Albeit the time keeps moving on
If in my second life I could choose to be
Something, I’d choose a tree
For under its shelter I kept memories
And thoughts of you and me