Happy Friday! Apologies for being absent for so long but I decided to have a little break from the blog for a little while.
My chosen poem this week is by the poet Philip Larkin.
The Trees The trees are coming into leaf Like something almost being said; The recent buds relax and spread, Their greenness is a kind of grief. Is it that they are born again And we grow old? No, they die too. Their yearly trick of looking new Is written down in rings of grain. Yet still the unresting castles thresh In fullgrown thickness every May. Last year is dead, they seem to say, Begin afresh. afresh, afresh. Philip Larkin