For some reason, while on a recent trip northern Maine, the first few words of a poem came to me, but I couldn’t recollect the rest of the lines or who had written it. I tiny bit of research on the internet revealed the entire poem and the author’s name, Joyce Kilmer, a soldier who died in World War 1 at the age of 31. The name of his poem is simply “Trees” and for anyone who has never heard it, here it is:
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.
The author of Tree Talk is a licensed arborist. He can be reached at RobertFogg@Q-Team.com or 207-693-3831.
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