Linden in a Lost Land

A former throne preserved in memory well-hidden from the world, this mossy seat was once a privileged place to lend retreat in the lap of an ancient linden tree. I leaned against the bark supporting me, head gently wreathed in leaves; with nimble feet of a young queen ready to flee, secrete her realm once adult-proof, for privacy. How well I still recall the sheltering shape of foliage, silvery-green, that crowned my hair - although when I retraced my land of youth, there was no chance to reenact escape: The linden had been cut, my kingdom bare, with dreams trimmed long ago by scythes of truth.

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