Silver dust
lifted from the earth,
higher than my arms reach,
you have mounted,
O silver,
higher than my arms reach
you front us with great mass;
no flower ever opened
so staunch a white leaf,
no flower ever parted silver
from such rare silver;
O white pear,
your flower-tufts
thick on the branch
bring summer and ripe fruits
in their purple hearts.

2 Comments

  1. Karla says:

    This poem reflects what the poet saw when looking at a simple tree. She found beauty in its birth from the ground, its growth, and its silver leaves. If you look at a picture of a pear tree and re-read the poem, it makes more sense.

  2. morgan says:

    its not a ery good poem

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