Alice Corbin Henderson’s poem sets two quiet scenes side by side. First, trees: some stand together but motionless, others completely alone. Their stillness feels permanent, a way of being rooted in place without need for company. Then horses: by day they roam freely across wide pastures, but at night they draw close, turning their backs to the wind for warmth and protection. The poem doesn’t judge either way of living; it simply observes. A calm, spare mood emerges from these clear images. The speaker seems to look with quiet attention, noticing how each creature manages solitude and exposure. The trees face the world upright and apart, while the horses choose closeness when darkness comes. There’s no sentimentality here, just a clear-eyed look at how creatures meet the same cold world differently. In just a few words, the poem captures two kinds of resilience—one patient and unmoving, the other restless but tenderly communal.
Trees and Horses — Summary
Trees stand motionless among themselves, Some are solitary.
Horses wander over wide pastures; At night they herd closely, Rumps hunched to the wind.