November 24, 2017

A sound commences in my left ear like the sound of the sea in a shell; a downward, vertiginous drag comes with it. Time to head home.

—Jane Kenyon


November 17, 2017

And already still November Drapes her snowy table here. Fetch a log, then; coax the ember; Fill your hearts with old-time cheer; Heaven be thanked for one more year.

—George Parsons Lathrop


November 10, 2017

I didn’t know I was grateful For such late-autumn Bent-up cornfields Yellow in the after-harvest Sun before the Cold plow turns it all over.

—Bruce Weigl


November 3, 2017

How silently they tumble down And come to rest upon the ground To lay a carpet, rich and rare, Beneath the trees without a care.

—Elsie N. Brady


October 27, 2017

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, Are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, The world offers itself to your imagination.

—Mary Oliver


October 20, 2017

The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter wools.

—Henry Beston


October 13, 2017

There is no season when such pleasant and sunny spots may be lighted on, and produce so pleasant an effect on the feelings, as now in October.

—Nathaniel Hawthorne


October 6, 2017

You belong among the wildflowers You belong in a boat out at sea You belong with your love on your arm You belong somewhere you feel free.

—Tom Petty


September 29, 2017

The wind and welkin and wave are ours Wherever our bourne is found, And we envy no landsman his dream and sleep When we’re off to the fishing ground.

—Lucy Maud Montgomery


September 22, 2017

No one can tell me, Nobody knows, Where the wind comes from,Where the wind goes. It’s flying from somewhere As fast as it can, I couldn’t keep up with it, Not if I ran.

—A.A. Milne


September 15, 2017

Tivoli Girl, Don’t you hear the music play? If you’ll be my pal in the summertime Down beside the ocean blue, When the snow flies Tivoli Girl, I’ll be dreaming of you.

—Will Hardy


September 8, 2017

The wheel is ready to turn again. When you have gone it will light up, The shadow of the spokes to drown Your departure where the summer knells.

—John Ashbery


September 1, 2017

It is a real chill out, The genuine thing. I am not deceived, I do not think it is still summer Because sun stays and birds continue to sing.

—Gwendolyn Brooks


August 25, 2017

Here come real stars to fill the upper skies, And here on earth come emulating flies, That though they never equal stars in size, (And they were never really stars at heart.)

—Robert Frost


August 18, 2017

The stillness of the cup and the water in it, The silence of the moon And the quiet of the day far from the roar of the sun.

—Billy Collins


August 11, 2017

In the dog days of summer as muslin curls on its own heat And crickets cry in the black walnut tree The wind lifts up my life And sets it some distance from where it was.

—Meena Alexander


August 4, 2017

If sky and ocean had the means To pool their very bluest genes, Their brightest babies, one assumes, Would look like bachelor-button blooms.

—D.A.W.


July 28, 2017

But happiness floats. It doesn’t need you to hold it down. It doesn’t need anything. Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing, and disappears when it wants to.

—Naomi Shihab Nye


July 21, 2017

And now the crickets plug in their appliances in unison, and then the fireflies flash dots and dashes in the grass, like punctuation.

—Tony Hoagland


July 14, 2017

Sea’s stony greenblue shatters to white In a running swell under noonsky of cloudlight Where on a foamed-over cropping of rock A band of oystercatchers faces all one way.

—Eamon Grennan


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