The golden rod is yellow, the corn is turning brown; The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.
The gentian's bluest fringes Are curling in the sun; In dusty pods the milkweed Its hidden silk has spun. 139 more words
Two new books of poems have kept me company during the past week. Mature, accomplished, and in control of their individual artistic voices, both poets tend toward elegy, which is fine with me, in late August, as the current season is ushered off slowly by incoming autumn. 70 more words
Smithsonian Magazine carried an article titled “What Gives Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” Its Power?” by David C Ward. The writer of the said article has done such a wonderful analysis of the poem that brought back my college memories. 419 more words