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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
NOVEMBER, by EDMUND PALMER CLARKE First Line: Now morning points the day when yellow leaves Last Line: Care we for snow? Subject(s): Autumn; Morning; Night; November; Seasons; Fall; Bedtime | |||
Now morning points the day when yellow leaves That yesterday were banners in the sun Their autumn roadside carpet have begun; And through its golden pattern the wind weaves A mountain snow. Here on these ancient hills time does not haste, Though April's greens are changed to Autumn's gold Which now November spends with wind and cold -- With wind and cold lays Summer's beauty waste -- Hides it with snow. Of nights the Hunter's Moon climbs Copple Crown, And venison is cooking on the stove. Who cares how fast, or slow, up here, months move? The cider's poured, and Autumn toast we'll down -- Care we for snow? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BREATH OF NIGHT by RANDALL JARRELL HOODED NIGHT by ROBINSON JEFFERS NIGHT WITHOUT SLEEP by ROBINSON JEFFERS WORKING OUTSIDE AT NIGHT by DENIS JOHNSON POEM TO TAKE BACK THE NIGHT by JUNE JORDAN COOL DARK ODE by DONALD JUSTICE POEM TO BE READ AT 3 A.M by DONALD JUSTICE ROUND ABOUT MIDNIGHT by BOB KAUFMAN WINNIPESAUKEE by EDMUND PALMER CLARKE SOPHISTICATION by CONRAD AIKEN SUFFERED UNDER PONTIUS PILATE, WAS CRUCIFIED, DEAD, AND BURIED by CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER |
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