Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
A little schoolhouse stands
Beneath a maple tree,
Though silent is the bell
I hear it calling me.
The leaves are falling now
As in the days of yore;
On the roof they linger
And gather at the door.
I somehow can't resist
To wander back each year
To the old country school
When autumn's drawing near.
- M.Ford, 1960; c. 2009
No comments:
Post a Comment