Pods of summer crowd around the door;
I take them in the autumn of my hands.
I take them in the autumn of my hands.
Last night I heard the first cold wind outside:
And wind blew soft, and yet I shiver twice:
And wind blew soft, and yet I shiver twice:
Once for thin walls, once for the sound of time.
Fall Wind
William Stafford
What a pretty squirrel! I have never seen a black one.
ReplyDeleteHi Sandy
ReplyDeleteMost of our Grey Squirrels are black, go figure.
All the best.
Guy
Cute squirrel. I love the poem. It does give one the feeling of autumn and of life.
ReplyDeleteHi Kathie
ReplyDeleteI find I almost always get a lift or a thought from Stafford. Happy fall.
Regards
Guy