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Day in the Church Yard

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Day in the Church Yard



That day I kneeled in the grass

watched the tree, as my daughter pried


the apple from its reluctant grip.

She held the sun-warmed fruit; cradled


inside her tiny outstretched fingers.

As we walked away, I looked back


at the wind blown tree, hoping

when the day comes to let her go


 I could stand with as much dignity.


F.W. Morris