John Freeman imagines a row of poplar trees as tall slaves who cower whenever the wind—their capricious king—passes by. They bow, hide their faces in dark hoods, and whisper instead of standing up to him. At first the scene feels like something out of a tense court, full of fear and humiliation; though the trees are tall, they seem embarrassed by their own height and afraid to meet the wind’s anger. While the wind raves, the mood is heavy, tense, and oppressed.
But once the wind leaves, everything changes. The poplars lift their heads, the light returns to their leaves, and they move gently, almost lovingly. What seemed like slavery is revealed as the trees’ response to the wind, and the closing image feels calm, tender, and full of relief.