THIRTY LIKE A NERVOUS TREE

The trees stand stiff and tall Like thirty almost perfect men, Bigger than life, no pulse But their shadows That move, unlike clouds. They shook no fruit; They seemed too alive to bend. They stood like boys, Like girls ripe and warm, Too satisfied to dim down, Too decent to touch the grass.

I think they know me More than I know them, O fragile tree, boy, girl, They stand at ease in the sun; To stay like simply as I sleep.

• Wallace Stevens