The storm passed
Or so it seems
Another storm will rise
Over the mountain.
It too will come and ravage
The limb I so tenaciously
Connect to

On a single branch
A few of my companions hold on

Passers by wonder
Why do these few
Hold on so tightly
To a present that
The future promises to erase
With time
This too shall pass

But I continue to hang on
I know not why

Except that it is not yet time.
It is not yet time.

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