Thursday, February 26, 2009





To the Thawing Wind



COME with rain, O loud Southwester!

Bring the singer, bring the nester;

Give the buried flower a dream;

Make the settled snow-bank steam;

Find the brown beneath the white;

5

But whate’er you do to-night,

Bathe my window, make it flow,

Melt it as the ices go;

Melt the glass and leave the sticks

Like a hermit’s crucifix;

10

Burst into my narrow stall;

Swing the picture on the wall;

Run the rattling pages o’er;

Scatter poems on the floor;

Turn the poet out of door.


3 comments:

Adam said...

i'm hurt i didnt make your headshot picture...i mean alan? but not me? ouch!

Anonymous said...

I really like your poem.

Dan said...

Robert Frost takes the credit, that is the old guy in the picture below