No more walks in the wood: <br />The trees have all been cut <br />Down, and where once they stood <br />Not even a wagon rut <br />Appears along the path <br />Low brush is taking over. <br /> <br />No more walks in the wood; <br />This is the aftermath <br />Of afternoons in the clover <br />Fields where we once made love <br />Then wandered home together <br />Where the trees arched above, <br />Where we made our own weather <br />When branches were the sky. <br />Now they are gone for good, <br />And you, for ill, and I <br />Am only a passer-by. <br /> <br />We and the trees and the way <br />Back from the fields of play <br />Lasted as long as we could. <br />No more walks in the wood.<br /><br />John Hollander<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-old-fashioned-song/
