Janina Degutyte


The Pear Tree

In my father's garden
A pear tree breaks into bloom
And turns to a mountain of snow.

And against it - small and secure,
Like a sheltered nest,
Leans the grey old house.

Under the care-worn roof
Our daily bread is shared
And truth - the bread is warm

And the house is filled with light:
Through one window flows the moon,
Through the other the stars look in.
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