Robert Frost wrote about the changeability of New England weather in the spring in his poem "Two Tramps in Mud Time." Yesterday my backyard in the Midwest was doing its own version as the sun disappeared and the first snow of the season slanted downward.
The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak
A cloud come over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak
A cloud come over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.
4 comments:
I've been moving an old white mum plant around in the garden, where it can catch the best of the remaining light. Very cloudy days here, with rain. The fog in the morning is heavenly. Remember that poem by Carl Sandburg?
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
I love that poem, Bonita. Wonder why metaphors tickle and delight us? This is why I love poetry.
I think the best language is poetry. The more simple, the better. Have you heard of William Stafford? He is my favorite, and my favorite book is "Holding Onto The Grass". I hope you review its exquisite tone someday....
Thanks, Bonita - I will do some exploring.
Post a Comment