Did I say I was finished with fall poems?
I lied.
November Night
Adelaide Crapsey
Listen. . .
With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break from the trees
And fall.
(This poem is in the public domain.)
~~~~~~~~~~
10 comments:
Karen, there are so many November poems to love! And THIS one... I used a line from it to help create a cento in my forthcoming book with Charles Waters DICTIONARY FOR A BETTER WORLD. :) :) :) So yes, I really do love it. Thank you for sharing! xo
Happy to be reading Adelaide Crapsey again. "Frost-crisp'd" ♥️
Oh, lovely!!
This poem is a perfect example of the power of a few well-selected words. Love it!
I'd love to share this every year, Karen. It is wonderful again and again. FYI, I chose a similar pic for today's PF!
Karen, if only my tree could hear you. My tree is always the last to lose its leaves on my street. I will be out in mid-December raking.
Thank you for this introduction to the work of Adelaide Crapsey. I adore this poem.
Irene, I can't wait to see DICTIONARY FOR A BETTER WORLD! And yes, so many wonderful November poems to share. :)
Kimberly, the tree in our backyard needs to hear this message, too. We, too, are always raking mid-December. Brrrrr! :)
Thank you, all, for stopping by!
Oooh, that last line - while expected still packs a punch.
One of my favorites, Karen! I once used the middle line as a striking line for a golden shovel.
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