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