November, Beginning and Ending With Yeats (Thanks to Katarina for the inspiration)
"Surely some revelation is at hand."
Last night a shimmering stipple
Of frost across the north windows
And now in the early morning light
It drips from eaves and pine boughs,
The feathered edges of cedar shingles
And the brown-needled limb-tips
Curling in the cold like the wings
Of the huddled doves lifting a little
Before they fall to the scattered seeds.
From the hill still dark except where
There is frost-moss on stones, birdsong
Brief and brittle, breaking in mid-note.
For days ragged echelons of raucous geese
Passed over, and today one, circling, silent.
All distance deepens, but our desire too
Is a dimension and we come to its limits.
"Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold."
Poetry by countryfog
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Written on 2012-11-04 at 16:43
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Lawrence Beck |
josephus |
|
Rob Graber |
Katarina Wikholm |