Memory in an Orchard

Slow are the days as I sit beneath
the apple tree
Quiet the afternoon, no bird song.
Just a blue sky, and snowy white clouds
that drift slowly, in the stillness.
I dream, my mind a haze of what
used to be,
That time of you and me that lingers.
A memory that will not fade,
An echo of a dream long gone,
Never to be lost, as I sit beneath the apple tree.