February 13, 2015

love is more thicker than forget more thinner than recall more seldom than a wave is wet more frequent than to fail.

—e.e. cummings

February 6, 2015

For the listener, who listens in the snow, And, nothing himself, beholds Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

—Wallace Stevens

January 30, 2015

No hawk hangs over in this air: The urgent snow is everywhere. The wing adroiter than a sail Must lean away from such a gale.

—Edna St. Vincent Millay

January 23, 2015

So, leave the crows perched along the tree line watching over us. Leave them be. The setting sun? Leave it be. For God’s sake, what could be easier.

—C. Dale Young

January 16, 2015

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

—Martin Luther King Jr.

January 9, 2015

O Winter! frozen pulse and heart of fire, What loss is theirs who from thy kingdom turn Dismayed, and think thy snow a sculptured urn Of death!

—Helen Hunt Jackson

January 2, 2015

The door was shut, as doors should be, Before you went to bed last night; Yet Jack Frost has got in, you see, And left your window silver white.

—Gabriel Setoun

December 26, 2014

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light; The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

—Alfred Lord Tennyson

December 19, 2014

Mirth, full of joy as summer bees, Sits there, its pleasures to impart, And children, ‘tween their parent’s knees, Sing scraps of carols o’er by heart.

—John Clare

December 12, 2014

The lamps are burning in the synagogue, In the houses of study, in dark alleys . . . This should be the place. This is the way.

—Charles Reznikoff

December 5, 2014

On a clear winter’s evening The crescent moon And the round squirrels’ nest In the bare oak Are equal planets.

—Anne Porter

November 28, 2014

The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night, Ya-honk!  he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation.

—Walt Whitman

November 21, 2014

Heap high the farmer’s wintry hoard! Heap high the golden corn! No richer gift has Autumn poured From out her lavish horn!

—John Greenleaf Whittier

November 14, 2014

We lie on the cold sand and it embraces us, this beach where locals never go in summer and boast of their absence.

—Marge Piercy

November 7, 2014

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 31, 2014

On the last of October When dusk is fallen Children join hands And circle round me Singing ghost songs And love to the harvest moon.

—Carl Sandburg

October 24, 2014

Poor little Ada Queetie She used to do everything I told her, Let it be what it would, And knew every word I said to her.

—Nancy Luce

October 17, 2014

Wild geese stir in the early morning calm With a ripple of their wake. Far off, near the shore’s arm of dune that holds the pond, A kayak glides.

—Margaret Howe Freydberg

October 10, 2014

Smooth reflections of rock and tree, And out past the narrows a glimpse of sea? While I, of the scene a conscious part, Have a harbor for all in my welcoming heart.

—Charles Wharton Stork

October 3, 2014

It’s all a farce, — these tales they tell About the breezes sighing, And moans astir o’er field and dell, Because the year is dying.

—Paul Lawrence Dunbar