A Girl by Ezra Pound

02/1/17

Lily Clempson




The tree has entered my hands,


The sap has ascended my arms,


The tree has grown in my breast


Downward,


The branches grow out of me, like arms.


Tree you are,


Moss you are,


You are violets with wind above them.


A child so high you are


And all this is folly to the world