Trees are the souls of men
Reaching skyward.
And while each soul
Draws nearer God
Its dark roots cleave
To earthly sod:
Death, only death
Brings triumph to the soul.
The silent grave alone
Can bare the goal.
Then roots and all
Must lie forgot—
To rot.
From Fire!! A Quarterly Devoted to the Younger Negro Artists (November 1926). This poem is in the public domain.