Sunday 15th October - Poem

I've just read this in "The Spectator", written by AnthonyThwaites

Lines on my 87th birthday

Trees that I thought were dead are green again
Suddenly, and so late, miraculously,
Not blighted with ash die-back. What I see
Surprises with a rush of happiness
As if it were not necessary to die
But always be open to capriciousness.