We have a bally hill in our neighborhood that we like to visit sometimes. Some people call it "Death
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© 2015 light-in-leaves. Justine Template designed by Georgia Lou Studios All rights reserved.
Children's voices in the orchard
Between the blossom- and the fruit-time:
Golden head, crimson head,
Between the green tip and the root.
Black wing, brown wing, hover over;
Twenty years and the spring is over;
To-day grieves, to-morrow grieves,
Cover me over, light-in-leaves;
Golden head, black wing,
Cling, swing,
Spring, sing,
Swing up into the apple-tree.
--T.S. Eliot
© 2015 light-in-leaves. Justine Template designed by Georgia Lou Studios All rights reserved.
