Hawthorn tree

Today We went to 

The Hawthorn, 


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 


And flew off peacefully 

Like a white dove



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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