Hickory

The Hickory has gone golden amid a stand of oak,

that wring their paling leaves like ten thousand pair

of worried hands, fretful of the change and annoyed

by the inconstance of green, and so convinced

that loss could be nothing but brown, they

kept their limbs close when Midas wandered by,

finding only one that dared risk the glory of his touch.

©  dana hughes

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