Hawthorn tree

Today We went to 

The Hawthorn, 

looking

For leaves for

Cloth and tea.

Walking the path 

down to the beach,

Oak leaves scattered 

inches deep

And lichen on

A gnarled apple tree.

 

As always,

The Sweet old house 

Sits calmly

at the edge 

Of the sea.

 

We walk the surf

Where a white crow 

Stood

And flew off peacefully 

Like a white dove

Would.

 

Through the driftwood 

Tangles climbing now,

A black dog jumps

And gallops down.

To the name “blue”,

He turns and rebounds.

 

Then Back up the hill,

To home 

Safe and sound.

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