White Birch (The)
Storm-Broken Tree
No need to fallThough battles are wonThe morning dew will sprawlTo taste us allIn the morning sunAnd we will breatheThe smell of those last leavesWeatherworn beautiesClaimed by the seaBack from the days you were blownInto meNo need for gallThe battle is drawnThe morning dew will fallTo wake us allWhat is done is doneAnd we'll leave beThe smile on the last seedOf the storm-broken treeLike I swore the beautyFrom that night we were swornWould go free
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