Wind-stirred — Poetry Friday

On Wednesday, migrating bluebirds hopped among the last few golden leaves of my sugar maple.
This morning autumn was done.
The frosty air smelled like snow. The sky was gray. The cold, damp. I thought of hot tea and firing up my wood stove. And hiding inside until the bluebirds come back.

Now Close the Windows by Robert Frost (A Boy’s Will, 1913)

Now close the windows and hush all the fields:
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.

It will be long ere the marshes resume,
It will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
But see all wind-stirred.

This entry was posted in poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Wind-stirred — Poetry Friday

  1. Diane Mayr says:

    Frost is perfect for this time of year–he nails the season and the emotions that go with it.

  2. Linda Baie says:

    On Wednesday, we too thought that autumn was done. Wish I had known this poem then. Frost tells the story of his time, which connects to us still. Thanks for the beautiful words.

  3. I’ve been seeing quite a number of Frost poems during Poetry Fridays for the past several weeks. He is indeed a staple for the season. thank you for sharing.

  4. Mary Lee says:

    I’ve either missed this Frost poem or forgotten it, but it is indeed perfect for this time of year when we finally close all the windows and watch the wind from the warmth of indoors…