All day I tried to distinguish <br />need from desire. Now, in the dark, <br />I feel only bitter sadness for us, <br />the builders, the planers of wood, <br />because I have been looking <br />steadily at these elms <br />and seen the process that creates <br />the writhing, stationary tree <br />is torment, and have understood <br />it will make no forms but twisted forms.<br /><br />Louise Glück<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/elms-2/
