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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.

Philip Larkin
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5 comments

Don Sutherland said:

Very beautiful photo and textures.
2 months ago

William Sutherland said:

Stunning beauty!
2 months ago ( translate )

Kayleigh said:

☆☆☆ Admired in: www.ipernity.com/group/tolerance
2 months ago

Keith Burton said:

Beautiful...........just beautiful..!!
2 months ago ( translate )

Rachel J Bowler said:

Thank you.
2 months ago