Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WHEN I SEE TREES, by HELEN GIDDINGS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

WHEN I SEE TREES, by                    
Last Line: Curve of a bough, could make my soul kneel still
Subject(s): Trees; Nature


WHEN I see trees outlined against the sky,
Something that's Greek in me kneels down to pray.
On infinite blueness, sycamores that lay
Strange, barren traceries, gaunt, white, and dry.
Low evening star, and two slim poplars high.
Spiring to meet it, missing it as they sway-makers of gods in marble and in clay.
Had ye known birches when the winds go by!
I might have earth's glad colors, gold on blue.
Or rustle of fresh leaves, a wood-thrush trill.
Warmth of the dawn, sweetness of evening dew. Spring-wonder, - yet, an orchard-crested hill,
Shadows on snow from pines the light slips through.
Curve of a bough, could make my soul kneel still





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