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Please, Green -- don’t go away. I'll miss Your endless pastures and rolling hills, Shimmery branches in the morning dew;   Waxy leaves and plaited thorns, Stinging nettles and luscious petals,
I remember the gently blowing wind in my youth that shook the trees. I remember the soft, gentle flower petals fall from the trees and land in my palm. The passing street cars zooming right on by.
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