By shrill decree, as the wind wills, fall's bequeathing, brooding beauty is arrested in crisp bequest. It costs a fortune to heat the house in which the child no longer roams in rooms festooned with hope. So why fribble with ribbons another year? Why struggle to unsnag those ancient lights? The arrogance from suffering in which you bask, insufferable to yourself, @3might@1 pass; even you melt through, your record lows notwithstanding, your starkest days to date which January waits to laminate. http://www.wlu.edu/~shenano | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON MONSIEUR'S DEPARTURE by ELIZABETH I HYMN: FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY: 2 by REGINALD HEBER RIVER OF SEVILLE by AL-KUTANDI CRUX VIA CAELORUM: 3 by PATRICK CAREY THE LITTLE LADY (A CHILDREN'S SONG) by CH'ING HSI THE BOTHIE OF TOBER-NA-VUOLICH; A LONG VACATION PASTORAL by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH |