They and the sycamores, out by the river, their limbs laden and heavy with ice, exposed to a hawk and whipping wind coming off the water, stretch in supplication for spring, roots sunk into frozen earth, holding on for dear life.
100
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They and the sycamores, out by the river, their limbs laden and heavy with ice, exposed to a hawk and whipping wind coming off the water, stretch in supplication for spring, roots sunk into frozen earth, holding on for dear life.
100