I stood beneath the mulberry tree,
The one on Park Street,
On the other side of the train tracks
Around the corner from Whitehern mansion.
I admired the fruit on the branches,
As I did when I was a child.
We had one of these in our backyard,
I ate the berries back then.
But not this time,
I moved on.
Perhaps the school children enjoy its fruit, the way I once did.
Published by Margaret W. Langridge
I'm a Mexican born Canadian. The 9th of 13 children, a sister, wife, and mother. I love nature, reading, writing, and photography. I am not ashamed to say that I believe Jesus Christ is the son of God. That He died on the cross for the sins of the world, and rose from the dead 3 days later just as He said He would.
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