Poplars awaken with the first crisp, life-giving breeze
as Spring turns to Summer.
Like winter snow, melted and racing down mountains into swollen rivers,
Poplars hold the melting winter winds.
And you can hear it.
The constant break of the ocean
As each leaf is pressed upon by the wind
Dancing and spinning in all directions
Anchored to the Earth by unyielding little fingers and wild arms.
And like great waves
crashing and thrashing upon shorelines,
The poplar glitters and vibrates.
It Pulses.
With more movement than the human eye can follow,
Like static.
Each leaf,
A wild, dancing ripple in a wave.
Together,
Vibrating in unison like the sea.
Not fighting with the winds,
But dancing with them.
A most haunting and wondrous dance.
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