Past the yellow forsythia bush
And down the hill behind it
A rickety bridge spans a brook
Running swift with winter’s thaw
A grove of birch trees appears beyond
Just past the precarious crossing
With barks of paper and
Bursting buds of vivid lime
......
Past the yellow forsythia bush
And down the hill behind it
A rickety bridge spans a brook
Running swift with winter’s thaw
A grove of birch trees appears beyond
Just past the precarious crossing
With barks of paper and
Bursting buds of vivid lime
......