Poetry, the Classic Years: One Glistening Tree

One glistening tree in arboreal ecstasty
soft autumn morning beams generously
scoots a stirring wind to ruffle and tease
not another tree for seven long blocks,
east, finally, on 42nd there's a tree.
On trains out of town trees are thick
along the track and pleasure in a day
is tossed from each to each, careless
and zoneless as girls and boys at recess.
One tree alone seems to overreact to
sun and wind, no nature to teach it
that these are rights, by natural law