Once again I turn to Robert Frost who is New Hampshire's poet. Here's one of his seasonal poems called "Good Hours," which is perfect for today. New Hampshire is covered with a thin layer of crusty snow, it is cold, damp, and if I were to walk out tonight at 10:00, I, too, would probably see "no window but was black."
Good HoursVisit Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect for the Poetry Friday Round-Up. Have a great weekend!
I had for my winter evening walk--
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.
And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.
I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.
Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o'clock of a winter eve.
"No window but that was black" for me on my early morning walk (trudge) through the creaking snow today. (Well, one window glowed blue with Arthur cartoons, but that was it.) A piece of moon kept me company, but not enough for a "luster of middday". Thanks for a little Frost to walk with for the rest of the day!ReplyDelete
Love the image of cottages with shining eyes. Perfect poem for a winter's day :).ReplyDelete