Poetry Sunday: The Trees by Philip Larkin
The new leaves on the trees look pristine, unmarked. They are the paler green of the recently unfurled. They will get darker as the season advances and they will not remain long unmarked. But for now, they are the very essence of this new season and they invite us to breathe deep and appreciate Nature's beauty that surrounds us. Forget the past, they seem to say, "begin afresh, afresh, afresh."The Trees
by Philip Larkin
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.