The neat white blossom
peaked it's first flesh-like petals
Through the stark winter's bark
Of the Cherry tree
That you can see
If you lean out
Standing on a box
In the back bedroom of my council house.
From here - no leaves on the trees -
I can see through the windswept branches
Right across the South Down Hills.
I think how you just might,
if there were no hill,
See right across the Solent
To the Isle of Wight.