Rings

Rings
As the seasons spin
like the wheels of a cycle,

As planets revolve
around the sun,

This writer pens
familiar words

like rings forming ‘inside’
the towering oak.

Yes, the seasons
reshape its form.

Yes, the sun touches its bark
warming its core against all
pervading elements.

New rings circle around & around,
the writer
ever the same and expanding.

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