'Sprouted ramose from earth and formed real fine,
For my delight.
It leads me places on its wondrous wheels.
And like the skies and seas it fashions me
To feel all things.
Contrast to your caging, baleful, snapping screen,
The tree with wheels's no master, but a friend,
So green and Real.
To swim and feel like flowing liquid forms
A better branch, more stalwart than your wire.
You'll look deformed.
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