Joyce Kilmer. 1886–1918
Trees
I THINK that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day, 5
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. 10
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Kilmer was soooo non-PC. Today he would have to say “only mother earth goddess Gia” can make a tree.
I’m a lumberjack and I’m OK.
I sleep all night and I work all day....
I don’t think I shall ever see
a sight as lovely as a tree.
A tree cut down for paper and wood
A tree cut down for the human good.
Think on that, Joyce Kilmer.