Monday, August 24, 2009

trees




I THINK that I shall never see
A poem so lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest 
Against the sweet earth's 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." 

{Joyce Kilman, "Trees"}

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