Looking For A Sunset Bird In Winter
The west was getting out of gold, The breath of air had died of cold, When shoeing home across the white, I thought I saw a bird alight. In summer when I passed the place I had to stop and lift my face; A bird with an angelic gift Was singing in it sweet and swift. No bird was singing in it now. A single leaf was on a bough, And that was all there was to see In going twice around the tree. From my advantage on a hill I judged that such a crystal chill Was only adding frost to snow As gilt to gold that wouldn't show. A brush had left a crooked stroke Of what was either cloud or smoke From north to south across the blue; A piercing little star was through.
-Robert Frost
-Robert Frost
2 Comments:
Wonderful Frost poem to go with a beautiful sunset !
I have a weakness for sunsets and this was a beauty !
Thanks !
Joy
Wonderful. I love the poem and your sunsets. I am printing it out so I can read it some more today. Thanks.
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