William White

(United Kingdom)

Soliloguy

Who sat beneath this tree
As I now sit below
Dwelling on a memory.
Of springtime long ago.
Could they too once have heard
The cuckoo far away,
Listened to the Blackbird
On a springtime day.
What tales this tree could tell
Of happiness or grief,
With just the blackbirds song
And whispering of leaf.

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