Best Quaking Aspen Poems

We are the high altitude sentinels.
Our small groves freckle the high plains.
We keep to ourselves, mostly
upon the snow burdened peaks
where our ashen trunks blend
and our barren branches cling
to icy white glitter.

As the breath of winter ebbs
we watch the crystal spring run-off
growing ever greener with envy...

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Any qualms, quaking aspen
In shading a graveyard?
"No; not when, worn and wrinkly
My own pride discard!"...

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