22 January 2016

Fragment Friday - Winter Poetry

Winter on the windswept plains.

Winter Stars
By Sara Teasdale

I went out at night alone;
 The young blood flowing beyond the sea
Seemed to have drenched my spirit’s wings—
 I bore my sorrow heavily.

But when I lifted up my head
 From shadows shaken on the snow,
I saw Orion in the east
 Burn steadily as long ago.

From windows in my father’s house,
 Dreaming my dreams on winter nights,
I watched Orion as a girl
 Above another city’s lights.

Years go, dreams go, and youth goes too,
 The world’s heart breaks beneath its wars,
All things are changed, save in the east
 The faithful beauty of the stars.

Source: Flame and Shadow (1920)

In the Winter of My Thirty-Eighth Year
by W.S. Merwin

It sounds unconvincing to say When I was young
Though I have long wondered what it would be like
To be me now
No older at all it seems from here
As far from myself as ever

Walking in fog and rain and seeing nothing
I imagine all the clocks have died in the night
Now no one is looking I could choose my age
It would be younger I suppose so I am older
It is there at hand I could take it
Except for the things I think I would do differently
They keep coming between they are what I am
They have taught me little I did not know when I was young

There is nothing wrong with my age now probably
It is how I have come to it
Like a thing I kept putting off as I did my youth

There is nothing the matter with speech
Just because it lent itself
To my uses

Of course there is nothing the matter with the stars
It is my emptiness among them
While they drift farther away in the invisible morning

W. S. Merwin, "In the Winter of my Thirty-Eighth Year" Copyright © 1993 by W.S. Merwin,

Source: The Second Four Books of Poems: The Moving Target The Lice The Carriers of Ladders Writings to an Unfinished Accompaniment (Copper Canyon Press


Kathleen Cassen Mickelson said...

Nice poem choices for a windswept winter day.

Constance Brewer said...

I thought so, too.

Split Pea Traveler said...

Thank you. I LOVE that first poem. So beautiful.
It's -25 here in West Yellowstone this morning. I bet even the stars are cold.

Constance Brewer said...

I was quite taken with that poem.
Yikes, no wonder I wouldn't visit Yellowstone in the winter. Beautiful though, I bet.

Split Pea Traveler said...

So beautiful! We visited two days this week by snowmobile. However, if warmth is more your thing, there are also snow coaches that reportedly travel with heat and hot chocolate. Either way, it's a gorgeous time of year to see the park. And by the way- aren't you from Wyoming? Minus 25 seems like it'd be cake to you! ;-)

Constance Brewer said...

I'm getting too old to appreciate -25 anymore. Except for the lovely clear view of the stars. I can brave the cold for that and a glimpse of the Milky Way. So I guess that means I must knit and weave more warm clothing!