Milosz gets the tree in the poem from translucent to laden with fruit.
Years passed, not months, while he slept,
and that tree must have flowered many times.
In the same way, we turn over mid-dream
or after love, those beautiful hours
we know were passed in the company of genius
but have forgotten in the particulars.
We know the tree stands for promise
and for the desire, which comes much later, for atonement.
We stand at the west-facing window
and let the buildings opposite turn gold, then back to brick.
(from Yellow Crane)
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