Marly, it’s true — my poor memory served me pretty well here. It was impossible not to see that tree as a vulva, but it’s fortunate that I chose to focus on the angel and the hermit, because you totally aced the tree’s perspective in your poem.
Clive is obviously a man of many talents, as I am just beginning to discover. But isn’t that true about many artists of his calibre? Reading about them, one often senses a certain arbitrariness in their choice of a field.