On her blog, on February 1st, Anna blogged a poem about February. Fitting. I'll reply with one about winter, that fits February, and will particularly fit tomorrow when I am snowshoeing.
Go to the winter woods: listen there, look, watch, and
the dead months will give you a subtler secret than
any you have yet found in the forest.
- Fiona Macleod, Where the Forest Murmurs
2 comments:
I will add my mom's favorite winter poem - it is a December rather than a February poem, but considering that it is -5 degrees at 6:00pm here in Chicago, it seems fitting...
I heard a bird sing in the dark of December
A magical thing, and sweet to remember
"We are closer to spring than we were in September"
I heard a bird sing in the dark of December
- Oliver Herford
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evenign by Robert Frost is one of my favorites.
Beth
Nice, Beth. Thanks. I didn't know that one.
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