Green shadows gray away,
lighter and lighter until
the fog seems everyth ing.
Each tree is just a tree;
every row, a row. Yet
the more I see of all
the less of each I (think
I) know:
I) know:
I see leaves, so close
on the nearest one—
smooth-topped and
fuzzy-backed, catch ing
a veiled sun. And dry ing
lo wer- branches, thin and
brit tle brown, that
must itch before they
fall off, I'm imagin ing.
One known tree.
Short,
by the measure of
those at its side.
And
me. Not even
tall enough
to be part of that
towering line.
I could cut them all
down; make them
square towers. Still,
what a small life
is mine.
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ReplyDeleteWhat initially interests me about this poem is its physical shape. It visually represents one of the trees that it describes, and is largely focused on the physical description of the tree. Thematically, this poem deals with the relationship between humans and nature. There is a common sensation of feeling like your life is small when coming face to face with magnificent nature, and the speaker clearly experiences it. He says, “I could cut them all/down; make them/square towers. Still,/what/a small life/is mine” (Lines 27-31). The speaker feels that, even if he diminished the trees to a physically smaller size by cutting them, they would still possess a greater inherent power than his human life will ever contain.
ReplyDelete"they would still possess a greater inherent power than his human life will ever contain"...How do you begin to compare life with life? More importantly, WHY compare? This is not about power--this is about existing. Cut down every tree; it does not change that you are merely another sapling in the forest.
ReplyDeleteThis poem discusses the relation of any individual to the world as a whole, literally that of an insignificant tree in a huge forest. Visually, the poem forms a tree shape, which is a reminder to the reader that the speaker itself is a tree. The poem by evoking a vast and indeterminate natural landscape with images of
ReplyDelete“Green shadows gray away,
lighter and lighter until
the fog seems everyth ing.”
that form the tops of the trees branches. As the poem continues, it moves both literally and metaphorically to the root of the matter. The speaker notes that
“I could cut them all
down; make them
square towers. Still,
what a small life
is mine.”
at the base of the tree. The trees could all be destroyed but that does not diminish the fact that every individual is insignificant among the forest as a whole.
The poem “Myself in the distance…” on the surface is about a tree that and what the tree looks like on the surface. The poem talks about how the tree interacts with its environment. But the poem through the tree is alluding to society and how as the individual we interact with in our lives. It talks about comparing our selves with others, “Short by the measure of those at its side”. The poem continues to question what importance our lives have in the greater scheme of nature. We are just a small part of the universe, “Still what a small life is mine”. Along with the words the poem is structured to look like a tree, with a large trunk and then branching out into small branches and then the small leaves at the end of the branches. He is so creative in that the some of the delicate words or even the suffix of word in the beginning just dangle in the air. As the poem approaches the end, the concept is deeper and more powerful which corresponds to the words being positioned in the thick trunk of the tree.
ReplyDeleteI think one of the funniest things I always hear parents saying is “well look, what a small world” when meeting someone from their hometown or some cousin of their favorite professor because of how unimportant and throw away the comment seems, yet how deep that conversation can go. As a teenager, a tiny speck in my community, I have even wondered about the extent to my own reach and my literal relation to the world around me, seeing it as so large compared to little old me. Also, as a teenager in the 21st century, I feel even tinier as I look onto the centuries of history before me, all of that life existing before my 17 years on earth began. I think this realization of how small we are is what pushes so many people to try and be the best they can and make their own marks on history, all so they can prove that they are more than just a tiny speck. Even in the grand scheme of things, celebrities, historical figures, and making your own mark only goes so far, just as the poem mentions about all the other trees in the forest other than you, you “could cut them all down; make them square towers. Still, what a small life is mine.” Putting this idea at the base of the poem in the trunk of the tree shape reminds me how this realization of scale and existence is understood and comprehended by the human population, although it is stuffed deep inside ourselves as we don’t want to acknowledge or admit some lack of importance in what we do, which only pushes us harder to want recognition .
ReplyDelete