EPISODE · Oct 20, 2023 · 1 MIN
When the Year Grows Old - Edna St. Vincent Millay
from 1 Minute with The Bald-Headed Poet · host Sharie Monique
When the Year Grows Old, By Edna St. Vincent Millay I cannot but rememberWhen the year grows old—October—November—How she disliked the cold!She used to watch the swallowsGo down across the sky,And turn from the windowWith a little sharp sigh.And often when the brown leavesWere brittle on the ground,And the wind in the chimneyMade a melancholy sound,She had a look about herThat I wish I could forget—The look of a scared thingSitting in a net!Oh, beautiful at nightfallThe soft spitting snow!And beautiful the bare boughsRubbing to and fro!But the roaring of the fire,And the warmth of fur,And the boiling of the kettleWere beautiful to her!I cannot but rememberWhen the year grows old—October—November—How she disliked the cold!Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree
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When the Year Grows Old, By Edna St. Vincent Millay I cannot but remember When the year grows old— October—November— How she disliked the cold! She used to watch the swallows Go down across the sky, And turn from the window With a little sharp sigh. And often when the brown leaves Were brittle on the ground, And the wind in the chimney Made a melancholy sound, She had a look about her That I wish I could forget— The look of a scared thing Sitting in a net! Oh, beautiful at nightfall The sof...
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When the Year Grows Old - Edna St. Vincent Millay
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