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Pamela Hirte
Writer / Poet
Progeny
I often times tried to tell myself this day would surely come.
Born of my trunk and strengthened by my roots,
new grown branches reached toward the sun.
I saw them last month, both confident young men.
They looked up at a conquering sky, smiling,
sons who knew how to climb while holding steady to Earth.
I told them they could achieve their dreams, they listened.
High above the clouds they have soared.
In a sunlit field stands a lone tree.
Published by: Pegasus, The Kentucky State Poetry Society

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