Passing By Poem by Isamar Carrillo
Passing By
Whose woods these are, I do not know;
I know they are not mine.
The trees, too tall, do bear some fruit,
A fruit I'll never try.
However I will linger here,
and stand close to the fence,
and contemplate the fragrant fruit.
A fruit I'll never taste.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
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4/24/2024 7:07:25 AM # 1.0.0.1119
