Question

I went away next year-
Spent a season in Kashmir-
Come back thinner, rather poor. But richer by a cherry tree at my door.
Six feet high my own dark cherry. And I could scarcely believe it -a berry.
Ripened and jeweled in the sun. Hung from a branch-just one.
And next year there were blossoms small
Pink, fragil,quick to fall.
At the merest breath, the sleepiest breeze---
I lay on the grass , at ease, Looking up through leaves at the blue
Blind sky at the finches as they flew.
And flitted through the dappled green.
While bees in an ecstasy drank. Of nectar from each bloom and the sun sank
Swiftly ,and the stars turned in the sky,
And moon -moths and singing cricket and i -
Yes, I-praised Night and stars and tree
That small, the cherry ,grown by me.

Write Appreciation ​

Answer 1

Answer:

Wow this very good let's travel all places