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.
Yes, I have used this poem in a previous post , but that was a different season and a different tree.This tree, my Acer palmatum var. dissectum 'Tamukeyama' is a red-leaf cultivator, which grows in my urban (NYC) rooftop garden.
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