There are so many crisp, perfect, and wistful poems about November. It’s hard to choose just one, isn’t it? But here’s a short one I return to every year. (And it’s in the public domain, yay!)
November Night
by Adelaide Crapsey
Listen …
With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break from the trees
And fall.
Good old Adelaide Crapsey! She could really write a cinquain like nobody's business. "November Night" is a good return-read.
ReplyDeleteTabatha, yes! Cinquain queen. :)
DeleteI love this! I was looking for a November poem recently and ... here it is...right here. Perfectly perfect.
ReplyDeletePerfectly happy to perfectly accommodate, Linda! :)
DeleteThanks for sharing, Karen. Love the line breaks and "frost-crisp'd" - a perfect poem!
ReplyDeleteRose, I love "frost-crisp'd" too — I can see that/feel that in my bones!
DeleteLove this poem! Adelaide capture so much, espcecially with her "frost-crisp'd." I will look for more of her work! Thanks, Karen!
ReplyDeletePerfect November poem, Karen! Thank you. "Frost-crisped" is lovely.
ReplyDeleteThis poem, short and elegant, says it all about this month! It perfectly sums up walking through our woods right now. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteI am imagining the sound, right now, as leaves break off and fall. Such a lovely poem and image!
ReplyDelete* Monica, enjoy your wanderings through her work!
ReplyDelete* Susan, happy to add a little perfection to your November. :D
* Carol, here's to a frost-crisp'd walk soon!
* Janice, yes, can't you just hear it?
November perfection with that beautiful photo and evocative poem. Joining the praise for "frost-crisped." :)
ReplyDeletelovely. I love the last two lines. I can hear and feel the leaves falling.
ReplyDelete