Wind and Window Flower
It’s a cold, cold, rainy day here in Los Angeles, about as close to winter as we get.
Sometimes I forget where I live and think, ‘In a few weeks, when the frost starts, I’ll be digging out my winter coat and ear muffs.’ But it’s February and the strawberries are almost ripe and I’ll soon be wearing t-shirts and shorts.
But one gets nostalgic for snow when you never see it. So I’ll be content with this poem by Robert Frost, one of my favorites (even during summer).
Wind and Window Flower
by Robert Frost
Lovers, forget your love,
And list to the love of these,
She a window flower,
And he a winter breeze.
When the frosty window veil
Was melted down at noon,
And the caged yellow bird
Hung over her in tune,
He marked her through the pane,
He could not help but mark,
And only passed her by
To come again at dark.
He was a winter wind,
Concerned with ice and snow,
Dead weeds and unmated birds,
And little of love could know.
But he sighed upon the sill,
He gave the sash a shake,
As witness all within
Who lay that night awake.
Perchance he half prevailed
To win her for the flight
From the firelight looking-glass
And warm stove-window light.
But the flower leaned aside
And thought of naught to say,
And morning found the breeze
A hundred miles away.
From A Boy’s Will, 1913
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