winter in the boulevard
the frost has settled down upon the trees
and ruthlessly strangled off the fantasies
of leaves that have gone unnoticed, swept like old
romantic stories now no more to be told.
the trees down the boulevard stand naked in thought,
their abundant summery wordage silenced, caught
in the grim undertow; naked the trees confront
implacable winter’s long, cross-questioning brunt.
has some hand balanced more leaves in the depths of the twigs?
some dim little efforts placed in the threads of the birch?—
it is only the sparrows, like dead black leaves on the sprigs,
sitting huddled against the cerulean, one flesh with their perch.
the clear, cold sky coldly bethinks itself.
like vivid thought the air spins bright, and all
trees, birds, and earth, arrested in the after-thought
awaiting the sentence out from the welkin brought.
d.h. lawrence 1916
3 comments:
While I am not generally a DH Lawrence fan, this poem I like very much. And the photos are great with it! I'm assuming they're yours?
hi goldenrod. lawrence hovers right in the middle of like/don't like for me but i thought i'd give his poetry a look and this one felt right. the photos are mine. these trees stand at the edge of a field roughly one hundred metres from here. it was a late afternoon shot and i really liked the shades of blue-grey, through to the silvery blues and egg shell blues that showed up.
steven
The bareness of the trees etched against the sky gives your photos added dimension, as well, Steven. Kind of an ethereal feeling to the whole post. Lovely!
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