That small branch,
part of a much larger tree,
catches the light of the afternoon sun,
bends with the weight of a passing squirrel,
shifts ever so slightly, touched by a breeze –
a momentary receiver of whatever comes,
a momentary lender of itself.
JDG
aholdingplace 
What a lovely ode to something we usually overlook. Great image you painted with your words.
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Beautiful! 💜
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