A Memorial

Trees

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.

Joyce Kilmer ~1913


Yesterday I witnessed the destruction of every old growth canopied tree along the entire length of West Grant Avenue. The avenue is now completely bare but for one young tree and the brand new curbstones. The shade for the children walking to school will be gone for decades. I was heartsick. This memorial is for the trees.

On a lighter note, thank you all for your hearts, stars, and lovely comments on my 365 yesterday! You kept me afloat as I was sinking in despair. And thank you so much for sending Mr. & Mrs. W. Duck to the spotlight page!

xo xo xo