Thursday, January 19, 2012

Thursday Poem - The Snow Man

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

Wallace Stevens, from Harmonium

4 comments:

One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

I can remember past years when I lived in Michigan - my girls loved a snowman...

Guy said...

HI Cate

A great choice of poet and poem and a nice snowman.

Regards
Guy

the wild magnolia said...

Zen wonderful poem.

"...the sound of the land...", sigh, words that stick with me. warm fuzzy words, winter words.

Snow Man tell no secrets.

Lilian Nattel said...

I love the perspective of this photo, the way the snowman is seen stretching high above centred in the glow with 2 thin branches for arms.