The First Frost In Poems & Pics

Posted on October 16, 2020

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When the corn’s all cut and the bright stalks shine
   Like the burnished spears of a field of gold;
When the field-mice rich on the nubbins dine,
   And the frost comes white and the wind blows cold;
Then its heigho fellows and hi-diddle-diddle,
For the time is ripe for the corn-stalk fiddle
.

from The Corn-Stalk Fiddle by Paul Laurence Dunbar


It is the start of winter glittering on her cheek,
the first frost of having been hurt.

from “First Frost,” by Andrei Voznesensky


Look, I want to love this world
as though it’s the last chance I’m ever going to get
to be alive
and know it.

from October by Mary Oliver


O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.

from “October” by Robert Frost


lisa eddy is a writer-for-hire, researcher, educator-for-hire, youth advocate,  musician, and gardener.

On Twitter: @lisa_eddy
On email: lisagay.eddy1@gmail.com