The loss of trees

A Gift Island Poetry | Curated by Deirdre Kessler

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In “The Elm Tree,” part I, stanza 10, poet Thomas Hood (1799-1845), writes:

One mystic Tree alone there is,
Of sad and solemn sound—
That sometimes murmurs overhead,
And sometime underground—
In all that shady Avenue,
Where lofty Elms abound.

The first and sixth stanzas of “Trees,” in Trees and Other Poems (1914)  

by Alfred Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918): 

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

L. M. Montgomery writes, in chapter 2 of Emily’s Quest:

“Emily was always glad that she lived where there were
many trees—old, ancestral trees, planted and tended by
hands long dead, bound up with everything of joy and
sorrow that visited the lives in their shadows.”

Like many other poets and writers, Deirdre Kessler chronicled the loss of trees in hurricane Fiona.

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