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A Branch
A Branch
Allen Tucker
AT daybreak, The maple leaves are like stars; Waving stars,
Fluttering stars,
Awakening with a sigh.
At midday,
The maple leaves are like stars, Hosts of stars,
Glorious stars,
Against the azure sky.
At sundown,
The maple leaves are like Stars, Service stars,
Gold on the dusk,
Emblems of those who die.
