Today, though, I thought I’d post two of the “November” poems because – well, I suspect you’ll figure it out immediately.
The first was written in 1869. The second was written six years earlier, in 1863.
The opening to that first poem is perfect for today since we’ve now set our clocks back: “The Day grew small, surrounded tight / By early, stooping Night!” – and that third line is perfect too: “The Afternoon in Evening deep.”
Our weather is (finally) becoming more fall-like, now that November has “hung his Granite Hat / Upon a nail of plush.”
The second poem, “The night was wide, and furnished scant,” speaks of the time to come in winter, when “November left – then clambered up / And fretted in the Eaves.”
Yep, the time is now to winterize your home!