Tired of resting on my laurels & sycamore, more, more society, I treed something else. ‘Went to the beech and met a nut named Ash. We became fast fronds—it helped he had weeds—I hope you conifer what I mean, wink wink

(I’m sequoia)

Anyway, we made a bract. A pithy bract, and if you’re aspen what kind of bract, well the core of it was:

f*ck yew & the horse you rhododendron…


©Karen Robiscoe


About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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