||[Sep. 13th, 2009|09:11 pm]
Sooner than expected the clouds arrive and the day is almost autumnal. The trumpet vine's few remaining flowers get no visits from hummingbirds, and the dry grass, shaded, smells less arid than when the full sun baked it yesterday. The air has the damp scent of a coming storm, and nightfall brings a few sprinkles of rain. Though they are not enough to darken the pavement, their presence pleases me. Although summer will reassert itself once this overcast passes, the real autumn will come eventually, and real rain with it. I will be patient.|
by Robert Frost
By June our brook's run out of song and speed.
Sought for much after that, it will be found
Either to have gone groping underground
(And taken with it all the Hyla breed
That shouted in the mist a month ago,
Like ghost of sleigh bells in a ghost of snow)—
Or flourished and come up in jewelweed,
Weak foliage that is blown upon and bent,
Even against the way its waters went.
Its bed is left a faded paper sheet
Of dead leaves stuck together by the heat—
A brook to none but who remember long.
This as it will be seen is other far
Than with brooks taken otherwhere in song.
We love the things we love for what they are.
i've never seen that poem before. (college poetry professor traumatized me for life, for serious.) beautiful last line!
fall's on the way here, too, and hooray for that.
Hyla Brook is included in this free ebook
of 118 of Frost's poems. I'd actually never seen it before either.
thank you for the link! i realize, looking at the titles, that i've read only the frost poems that are printed in collegiate-type anthologies. he has never really turned me on, not the way (let's say) dylan thomas has since i was a girl, with those electrifying rhythms and beautiful words. but i just read "Fragmentary Blue" at Poem Hunter and see that i've underestimated frost!