...it's not dark yet, but it's gettin' there...

November 17, 2004

Wednesday Is Poetry Day

Here we are in the middle of November. Although in California the weather is indistinguishable from almost any other time of year, i think i'm ready for a seasonal poem. This one is by Robert Frost, 1913.

My November Guest

My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
       Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
       She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
       She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
       Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
       The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
       And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
       The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
       And they are better for her praise.

As a Californian, it's difficult for me to fully "get" Robert Frost, because i don't know snow and i don't know seasons. But i've always loved November. It's the most thoughtful month, i think.

Posted by annika, Nov. 17, 2004 |
Rubric: Poetry


Oh, Annika, it's a lovely poem. And I love November for the Big Game...

Posted by: Hugo on Nov. 17, 2004

Annika, if you want to "know" snow, cold, and winter; feel free to come and visit the Villainschloss in January/February. (Come out for the inauguration if you like.) Then you wil get a dose of winter, but not a heavy dose like I've experienced in Vermont, New Hampshire, and Canada.

Posted by: The Maximum Leader on Nov. 17, 2004

my visit to Detroit, chronicled here, was enough wintry education for me.

Posted by: annika! on Nov. 17, 2004

Snow? What's snow?

Although, as an OC native in SF, I now know many words that go with "fog" - most of them are expletives.

Posted by: Tony on Nov. 17, 2004

Garrison Keillor is a liberal shithead, but his stories of midwestern heartinss bred by the adversity of Winter are hilarious. Catch him any weekend from now til June on his PBS show, Prairie Home Companion.

Posted by: Casca on Nov. 17, 2004

I'm a life-long Southern Californian, and "My November Guest" is my favorite Frost Poem, hands down. Autumn is my favorite time of year. My working theory is that it's because it is the one season in these parts where I can actually feel a change in the air. Summer and Winter and Spring just kind of bleed together, but Autumn, now . . .


Plus, November is that glorious month-long stretch in-between Candy Day and Turkey Day.

Once again, ahhhhhhhhh.

Posted by: http://wayoffbass.blogspot.com on Nov. 18, 2004

Snow: I remember that! Seeing as I'm back in Mass. from Florida, I always look forward to seeing it again. And then the novelty wears off after about a day, and I wonder WTF I could've possibly been thinking. ;-)

Posted by: Dave J on Nov. 24, 2004