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.:. Willows 44 Most romantic of trees, we bow before their deep insatiable love for water-voracious roots burrowing into wells and sewer lines, great black branching trunks lifting prophetic limbs high toward the cloud-streaked night sky, and everywhere falling waterlong breeze-blown skeins of willow leaves that are not tears, is not weeping though we look to these willows to comfort or cry with us as we tum away from or face the deep and eternal losses our lives deliver us. ...

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