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Stewardship of Syrup

We leave DNA, ripples of good, or tidal waves of destruction. Consumption, tempered with stewardship, helps build that which is good.

stewardship-of-syrup


Gray with rain in the morning,

And the maple wept, its way.


Born to servitude of steel buckets, taps

and pewter plates.

The tools of waffle's reward.


Sorely accepting the fate that be.

Long feet planted deeply,

The collector – unmoved.


Long Feet Planted Deeply

stewardship-of-syrup

The sweet reward, another takes.

Soft wooded juices purpose proved.


Without return of rights defined,

The thief, his obligation, not pined.


For, in the taking of tree’s maple, gold.

The land, the life, the earth, must hold.


© 2021 Christine Patrice Gebera

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