Trees
(For Mrs. Henry Mills Alden) I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in Summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree.
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Great photographs! And the Kilmer poem is perfect for the pictures.
ReplyDeleteHi Donna! As you move into the Autumn season we are in Spring, and the trees are blossoming. I love the cycles of trees, and the recording of a tree's history in its growth rings is fascinating to me. I loved the photo showing this. Did you take it?
ReplyDeleteyes ma'am.
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