In the morning, beneath your canopy the whole world glows a growing green.
If I started to climb your branches now, by midnight I could touch the stars.
Where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry.
Where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry.
In the morning, beneath your canopy the whole world glows a growing green.
If I started to climb your branches now, by midnight I could touch the stars.
Beautiful.
When I went to Italy one year – some of the trees were so tall I thought they would rival a four or five story building and the trunk was mostly bare except for the top layer of the canopy of leaves. – maybe just the top story – I don’t know what tree it was, but I think at night it may have touched the stars too!
Simply and delightfully magical.