A Gift Of A TREE Descending down the slope the valley shines in the last of the sun showering light on patches of green , the brick-red roof-tops, the barns, the stable-yards, resounding , the valley gathers all her signs into a green fold. Watched from the window of a cold green house the raven sends a piercing note to his brethren on the opposite hill. Two solitary huts standing atop the hills on either side, I wave to you and say, "Tomorrow I may send you a tree flying across the length of the sky, the depth of the valley,. I have cut off the roots, pruned the width, trimmed the wild leaves; the flowers may wilt before they reach the soil where you might want to plant and grow the tree. But this sleepy head has counted the leaves of each branch, like the pages of diary counted and stored away. Count each leaf once again and see if the number tallies; more precious the count than the money in the vaults, as subtle the weight as the perfume slight, ...
