A Girl, by Ezra Pound
The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast-
The branches grow out of me, like arms.
Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child - so high - you are,
And all this is folly to the world.
frenzyOfFlies wrote 272 days ago (neutral)0This is wonderful. Thanks :)0 points KarenMarieBlack328 wrote 275 days ago (positive)1Thanks for sharing!0 points Kool2TheBone wrote 276 days ago (positive)1Smooth0 points Sami wrote 277 days ago (positive)1Alot of "Oh, yeah..." in this wonderful poem.1 point