Tree by Tina Morris
Tree They did not tell us What it would be like Without trees. Nobody imagined That the whispering of leaves Would grow silent Or the vibrant jade of spring Pale to grey death. And now we pile Rubbish on rubbish In the dusty landscape Struggling to create A tree. But though the shape is right And the nailed branches Lean upon the wind And plastic leaves Lend colour to the twigs. We wait in vain For the slow unfurling of buds. And no amount of loving Can stir our weary tree To singing. Tina Morris About Tina Morris Tina Morris is a twentieth century British poet. She jointly edited New British Poetry anthology in 1965 with Dave Cunliffe. She wrote Thunderbolts of Peace and Liberation. The British Poetry revival was first proposed by Tina Morris in Poet meat She features in the Pudding magazine, the International Journal of Applied Poetry. She also features in 'Children in Albion', poetry of the underground in Britain. Her oth...