I name you wedding tree because we got married beneath a beech A gold-leafed beech tree, no altar or cross each of us standing on either side What I love about you is your leaves and how they persist, parchment-colored and curling, the only color in a winter forest You protect the new leaves, tightly curled into sharp buds, until spring What I love about you is your elephant skin, gray and smooth, wrinkled around your joints And how generations see you as a canvas, carve themselves into your story What I love about you is how you remind me of an October day under your boughs, making vows, giddy in the cold and how the whole forest was hushed like a cathedral, the sky a witness
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