Ch 16The Trees

The Trees

Poet: Adrienne Rich (1929–2012), a leading American poet, essayist and feminist thinker. Her poetry often uses everyday images to explore larger questions of freedom, identity and the position of women in society. She received numerous honours, including the National Book Award.

Introduction

"The Trees" presents a strange and dream-like scene: trees that have been kept inside a house are struggling all night to break free and move out into the empty forest, and by morning the forest will be full again. On the surface it is a poem about nature reclaiming its place — trees do not belong in houses, and a forest without trees is empty of birds, insects and shade. On a deeper, symbolic level, the trees are widely read as representing women (or any oppressed group) breaking out of the confinement of the home into the open world where they truly belong. The poem thus works both as a plea for nature and as a quiet poem of liberation.

Stanza-wise Explanation

Stanza 1

The trees inside are moving out into the forest,
the forest that was empty all these days
where no bird could sit
no insect hide
no sun bury its feet in shadow
the forest that was empty all these nights
will be full of trees by morning.

The trees kept inside the house are moving out towards the forest. The forest has been empty for a long time: with no trees, no bird could sit on a branch, no insect could hide in the bark or leaves, and the sun had no shadow to "bury its feet" in — a beautiful image meaning there was no cool shade where sunlight and shadow could meet on the ground. But this emptiness is about to end: by morning the forest will be full of trees again. The stanza establishes the central idea — nature (and, symbolically, every confined being) must return to where it belongs.

Stanza 2

All night the roots work
to disengage themselves from the cracks
in the veranda floor.
The leaves strain toward the glass
small twigs stiff with exertion
long-cramped boughs shuffling under the roof
like newly discharged patients
half-dazed, moving
to the clinic doors.

Now we see the struggle itself. All night long the roots labour to free themselves from the cracks in the veranda floor where they have been trapped. The leaves press and strain towards the glass of the windows; the small twigs have grown stiff with the effort; and the big branches, cramped for so long under the roof, shuffle slowly forward. The poet compares them to patients just discharged from a hospital who move, half-dazed, towards the clinic doors — weak and unsteady after long confinement, yet determined to walk out into freedom. The simile suggests that captivity is a kind of illness, and freedom is the cure.

Stanza 3

I sit inside, doors open to the veranda
writing long letters
in which I scarcely mention the departure
of the forest from the house.
The night is fresh, the whole moon shines
in a sky still open
the smell of leaves and lichen
still reaches like a voice into the rooms.

The poet sits inside the house with the doors open to the veranda, writing long letters — yet she hardly mentions this extraordinary event, the departure of the forest from the house. Perhaps the struggle for freedom is something so private, so inevitable, or so quietly momentous that it cannot be put into ordinary words. Outside, the night is fresh, the full moon shines in a sky that is "still open" (not yet covered by the crowns of trees), and the smell of leaves and lichen drifts into the rooms "like a voice" — as if nature itself is calling, announcing the escape.

Stanza 4

My head is full of whispers
which tomorrow will be silent.
Listen. The glass is breaking.
The trees are stumbling forward
into the night. Winds rush to meet them.
The moon is broken like a mirror,
its pieces flash now in the crown
of the tallest oak.

The poet's head is full of the whispers of the departing trees — whispers that will fall silent tomorrow, once the trees are gone and free. Then comes the climax: "Listen. The glass is breaking." The trees smash through the windows and stumble forward into the night, like prisoners breaking out. The winds rush to welcome them, embracing the freed trees. And the full moon, which shone whole in the open sky, now appears "broken like a mirror" — its light is scattered into flashing pieces among the leaves and branches in the crown of the tallest oak. The broken moon is not a loss but a sign of victory: the sky is no longer empty; the forest is full again.

Poetic Devices

• Personification: the trees act like living, wilful beings throughout — "the roots work", "The leaves strain toward the glass", "The trees are stumbling forward"; the sun "bury its feet in shadow"; "Winds rush to meet them".
• Simile: "long-cramped boughs shuffling under the roof / like newly discharged patients"; "the smell of leaves and lichen / still reaches like a voice into the rooms"; "The moon is broken like a mirror".
• Imagery: vivid sensory pictures — visual ("the whole moon shines", "its pieces flash… in the crown / of the tallest oak"), olfactory ("the smell of leaves and lichen") and auditory ("The glass is breaking", "whispers").
• Symbolism: the trees symbolise nature confined by man and, at a deeper level, women or any oppressed people struggling to free themselves from domestic confinement; the house stands for restriction and the forest for freedom and fulfilment.
• Enjambment: lines flow into one another without punctuation, e.g. "the forest that was empty all these nights / will be full of trees by morning."
• Metaphor: "half-dazed" trees as recovering patients extends confinement into an image of illness cured by freedom.

Theme / Central Idea

On the literal level, the poem asserts that nature cannot be caged: trees grown inside a house strain, struggle and finally break out to fill the empty forest, because that is where birds, insects, shade — and the trees themselves — belong. Man's attempt to domesticate nature is unnatural and must fail. On the symbolic level, the poem is a quiet manifesto of liberation: the long-cramped trees stand for women (or any suppressed group) confined to the home, gathering strength "all night" and finally breaking the glass of restriction to claim their rightful place in the open world. The poet's calm acceptance — she watches, listens and does not stop them — suggests that this freedom is natural, necessary and long overdue.

Rhyme Scheme

The poem is written in free verse — there is no regular rhyme scheme or metre. Its four stanzas of unequal length move with the loose, urgent rhythm of the trees' own struggle, and enjambment keeps the lines flowing like the slow, continuous push towards freedom.

Important Word Meanings