Photos and poetry 16 – Trees Cannot Name the Seasons

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Trees cannot name the seasons
Nor flowers tell the time.
But when the sun shines
And they are charged with light,
They take a day-long breath.
What we call ‘night’
Is their soft exhalation.

And when joints creak yet again
And the dead skin of leaves falls,
Trees don’t complain
Nor mourn the passing of the hours.
What we call ‘winter’
Is simply hibernation.

And as continuation
Comes to them as no surprise,
They feel no need
To divide and itemise.
Nature has never needed reasons
For flowers to tell the time
Or trees put a name to seasons.

by Roger McGough

 

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You can see my other posts which combine my love of Photos and Poetry  here

If you’d like to you can read my other blog 1500 Saturdays here  .  Though I don’t post much there now.

 

 

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