October Poem

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.

As if they could tell time, the leaves of our crab apple tree just turned orange and red. In Robert Frost’s poem titled October (the first few lines are above), he implores the leaves to fall slowly. The signs of autumn are not as obvious here in a sage green landscape dotted with juniper and pine. But it’s unmistakable when you step out in the morning and feel the crisp air. Frost (1874 – 1963) is known for his themes of nature and rural life.

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