Orchard Trees, January: RICHARD WILBUR
It’s not the case, though some might wish it so
Who from a window watch the blizzard blow
White riot through their branches vague and stark,
That they keep snug beneath their pelted bark.
They take affliction in until it jells
To crystal ice between their frozen cells,
And each of them is inwardly a vault
Of jewels rigorous and free of fault,
Unglimpsed until in May it gently bears
A sudden crop of green-pronged solitaires.
American poet Richard Wilbur (1921-2017) fought in Europe during World War II, then taught at Harvard University before continuing his career at Wesleyan University as Professor of English. He also worked as a translator, particularly of the 17th century French dramas of Moliere and Jean Racine.
Photographer: Martina Nicolls
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