The Cottage In The Cherry Orchard Poem by Charl JF Cilliers

Why I returned I do not know.
What’s left of the cottage are sightless windows
in a sunken face disfigured by the bruising blows
of wind and weather and the strong, slow
undertow of coiling, strangling roots. Below
the overarching branches of row upon row
of trees a wedding party’s laughter was heard to echo
down an avenue of rosy-pink sunlight. So long ago.
Here, from gnarled boughs the cherry blossoms blow
and cover with a thick carpet the ground below.

Who walked here once in hope and joy are all gone now.