Saturday, May 2, 2015

The First Morning in May


Out in my back garden on the first morning in May.
Of course, this poem was being whispered through the rusting leaves. 
“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.

4 comments:

  1. I am a great Philip Larkin fan Pamela. This poem says it all about Spring I think.

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  2. Oh Pamela, how beautiful. The fresh green of spring always excites me and I want to be out i the midst of it!

    xoxo
    Karena
    The Arts by Karena
    Giveaway from The Enchanted Home!

    ReplyDelete
  3. I love the sudden bursts of colors and the quiet beauty of the first green tips on everything sprouting. It's coming and going. One can count life in springs too. Your garden is enchanting.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I love the sudden bursts of colors and the quiet beauty of the first green tips on everything sprouting. It's coming and going. One can count life in springs too. Your garden is enchanting.

    ReplyDelete

I love to read your comments! Each and every one! Though I'm always reading your comments, I may not respond in the comment section. If you want to write me directly, you may do so at pamela@pamelaterry.net. Thank you for reading!