Sunday, December 17, 2006

Snow in the Suburbs
By Thomas Hardy

Every branch big with it,
Bent every twig with it;
Every fork like a white web-foot;
Every street and pavement mute:
Some flakes have lost their way, and grope back upward, when
Meeting those meandering down they turn and descend again.
The palings are glued together like a wall,
And there is no waft of wind with the fleecy fall.

A sparrow enters the tree,
Whereon immediately
A snow-lump thrice his own slight size
Descends on him and showers his head and eyes,
And overturns him,
And near inurns him,
And lights on a lower twig, when its brush
Starts off a volley of other lodging lumps with a rush.

The steps are a blanched slope,
Up which, with feeble hope,
A black cat comes, wide-eyed and thin;
And we take him in.

5 comments:

iamnasra said...

Snow in the Suburbs
By Thomas Hardy

is very delightful poem to read..thanks for sharing

Anonymous said...

This is beautiful and the first time I've read this poem by Hardy. Thanks for sharing.

Anonymous said...

thanks for bringing this back to me.

Homo Escapeons said...

Aaah, I am so happy for that cat.
Nothing like a warm tail, er tale, to lift the spirits at this time of year.

Kathleen said...

Lovely Don... thanks for sharing this...!

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