Wallace Stevens, “The Snow Man”
One must have a mind of winterTo regard the frost and the boughsOf the pine-trees crusted with snow;And have been cold a long timeTo behold the junipers shagged with ice,The spruces rough in the distant glitterOf the January sun; and not to thinkOf any misery in the sound of the wind,In the sound of a few leaves,Which is the sound of the landFull of the same windThat is blowing in the same bare placeFor the listener, who listens in the snow,And, nothing himself, beholdsNothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
-
sparksofloss liked this
-
sparksofloss reblogged this from poetryeater
-
huong1952 liked this
-
mettafour reblogged this from poetryeater
-
itsachemreaction reblogged this from poetryeater
-
leeeeeuh reblogged this from downforyouisup
-
iamwrappedupinbooks liked this
-
jhinke reblogged this from poetryeater
-
thetargetbird liked this
-
downforyouisup reblogged this from poetryeater
-
wrenwin reblogged this from poetryeater
-
laboria liked this
-
jennykay liked this
-
jennykay reblogged this from poetryeater
-
toynbeeconvector liked this
-
lprecords reblogged this from poetryeater
-
mamcclellan reblogged this from poetryeater
-
lprecords liked this
-
avant-que-joublie reblogged this from poetryeater
-
celia-valentina reblogged this from poetryeater
-
unfurlingunfailing reblogged this from poetryeater
-
joshuarobertlong liked this
-
loveelectra liked this
-
livingfeelsgood liked this
-
flatteryoconnor liked this
-
loveandzombies liked this
-
satanmilleroppa liked this
-
poetryeater posted this