Trees falling in the forest do make a sound

Trees

I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree 

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest against the earth’s sweet flowing breast

A tree that looks at God all day and lifts her leafy arms to pray

A tree that may in summer wear a nest of robins in her hair

Upon whose bosom snow has lain who intimately lives with rain

Poems are made by fools like me but only God can make a tree

Joyce Kilmer

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Tree A

Tree B

Tree C

Tree D

Tree E

Tree F

Tree G

Tree H