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When I was born, my parents planted a birch tree
in our back garden. I could not see it
from my room at the front of the house.
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Some effective details to describe a boy's room, his childhood reading, his first girlfriend. How the tree behind the house grew into something symbolic. The poem is okay, not excellent because the words are not dancing, they are not in a divine order
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10/22/2025 12:35:39 AM # 1.0.0
A meticulous portrayal of the childhood incidents followed by teenage passions. But why to be so disappointed, Kamiel? Thanks.