December 28, 2010
December 21, 2010
December 17, 2010
Poem: "The Trees" by Philip Larkin, from Collected Poems: Philip Larkin. © Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)
The Trees
The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.
Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too.
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.
Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.
The Trees
The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.
Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too.
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.
Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.
great poem.
I so love the big tree in my back yard.
I enjoy sitting in its shade in the spring and fall
I love looking at the full branches
and the late fall/early winter dropping of its' leaves
and
look forward to the spring
which is usually mid-February here in AZ
for the leaves to
begin afresh
afresh
afresh.
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