Les plus lus ▸
Beech, Pine, and Sunlight
The sudden April heat
Stretches itself
Under the smooth, leafless branches
Of the beech-tree.
And lies lightly
Upon the great patches
Of purple and white crocus
With their panting, wide-open cups.
A clear wind
Slips through the naked beech boughs.
And their shadows scarcely stir.
But the pine-trees beyond sigh
When it passes over them
And presses back their needles,
And slides gently down their stems.
It is a languor of pale, south-starting sunlight