The Pear Tree

by

The Pear Tree
Anna Ancher, Pear Tree in Front Yard
 
In this squalid, dirty dooryard,
Where the chickens scratch and run,
White, incredible, the pear tree
Stands apart and takes the sun,
Mindful of the eyes upon it,
Vain of its new holiness,
Like the waste-man’s little daughter
In her first communion dress.
Crowd Score: 7.0


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