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Trees by Philip Larkin (Right Word WS)

The trees are (coming) into leaf
Like (fables) almost being said
The recent buds (unfold) and spread
Their greenness is a kind of grief

Is it that they are (young) again
And we (grow) old? No, they (do) too
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain

Yet still the unresting (sprouts) thresh
In fullgrown (bodies) every May
Last year (had) (gone) they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, (afresh)

Editing stage: 


You got a few right on the nose!. But I won't say which at this point. The second line of first stanza is a bit strange to me with your word but that might just be me.
Whenever we write a poem (or anything) we make choices of which words we use. Good to see you giving serious thought to word usage; that's what this shop is for.......stan

Can I edit now if I found a better alternative, or should I wait?


Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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and edit now.......stan

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