Thursday, February 22, 2007

For my snow-weary friends in the northeast

Come with rain, O loud Southwester!
Bring the singer, bring the nester;
Give the buried flower a dream;
Make the settled snowbank steam;
Find the brown beneath the white;
But whate'er you do tonight,
Bathe my window, make it flow,
Melt it as the ice will go;
Melt the glass and leave the sticks
Like a hermit's crucifix;
Burst into my narrow stall;
Swing the picture on the wall;
Run the rattling pages o'er;
Scatter poems on the floor;
Turn the poet out of door.

ROBERT FROST

1 comment:

winona said...

yes, please. a few days ago things started melting, with that quiet constant trickle that sounds like spring. now things are frozen again.