I’m sure it was my plum tree.

Albert wrote a poem about a finch swooping into a red tree, and told a story in a very few lines. It was written so well that I had only read it two or three times before I knew certainly that it was my finch and my tree, that I saw with my own eyes… my own heart.

Read it on his site: THANKFUL

3 thoughts on “I’m sure it was my plum tree.

  1. That is such a good description of what happens to me when I am able to connect someone else’s words with my world. I’m thankful for this post, Gretchen.

    P.S. I don’t remember too much of what I have read, but this two-word plea (wish, command, exhortation, etc.), used by Forster as epigraph for his novel Howard’s End, has remained with me: “Only connect!” He was thinking about people, and I agree with that interpretation, but for me it has the extended meaning of making a connection with words, as above, but also with nature, and in general with everyday events and impressions. So now I’m doubly thankful. You have brought to mind some important memories and thoughts.

    Liked by 1 person

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