Sunday, January 09, 2005

Robert Frost on a Rainy Day

Rain rain rain has pelted us for days. Weeks. Rain with wind. Heavy rain. Greater Los Angeles has fourfold its normal seasonal rain level this winter, and it's only January. Streets are flooded and flooding. Our backyard is a lake, and the rain continues.

I don't mind rain, but I don't love it. It's a cold inconvenience. One wonderful thing about makes for cozy reading curled up on a couch. It gave me time to read poetry today.....Robert Frost. His words are simple and solitary, full of meaning.

The rain to the wind said,
"You push and I'll pelt."
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged---though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.
A Time To Talk
When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, "What is it?"
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.

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