Winter Poetry In The BPL Catalog To Reimagine This Cold Season
As it gets colder and the sun sets earlier and earlier, read some winter poetry to find some solace. I love seasonal poetry, as it offers a unique connection between the poet and the reader. We can find peace in knowing that our feelings are not ours alone but have been shared for centuries.
Also, while it may not snow very often in Alabama, we can still read about it and hope for a snow day soon! Here are a few of my own favorite poems to get you in the winter mood!
"Snow flakes"
I counted till they danced so
Their slippers leaped the town –
And then I took a pencil
To note the rebels down –
And then they grew so jolly
I did resign the prig –
And ten of my once stately toes
Are marshalled for a jig!
"When the Year Grows Old"
I cannot but remember
When the year grows old—
October—November—
How she disliked the cold!
She used to watch the swallows
Go down across the sky,
And turn from the window
With a little sharp sigh.
And often when the brown leaves
Were brittle on the ground,
And the wind in the chimney
Made a melancholy sound,
She has a look about her
That I wish I could forget—
The look of a scared thing
Sitting in a net!
Oh, beautiful at nightfall
The soft spitting snow!
And beautiful the bare boughs
Rubbing to and fro!
But the roaring of the fire,
And the warmth of fur,
And the boiling of the kettle
Were beautiful to her!
I cannot but remember
When the year grows old—
October—November—
How she disliked the cold!
"White-Eyes"
by Mary Oliver
In winter
all the singing is in
the tops of the trees
where the wind-bird
with its white eyes
shoves and pushes
among the branches.
Like any of us
he wants to go to sleep,
but he's restless—
he has an idea,
and slowly it unfolds
from under his beating wings
as long as he stays awake.
But his big, round music, after all,
is too breathy to last.
So, it's over.
In the pine-crown
he makes his nest,
he's done all he can.
I don't know the name of this bird,
I only imagine his glittering beak
tucked in a white wing
while the clouds—
which he has summoned
from the north—
which he has taught
to be mild, and silent—
thicken, and begin to fall
into the world below
like stars, or the feathers
of some unimaginable bird
that loves us,
that is asleep now, and silent—
that has turned itself
into snow.
If you're still looking for more winter-themed poetry, check out these books of poetry by Mary Oliver, Robert M. Drake, or this audiobook, which are all available through the Birmingham Public Library.
By Julie Higginbottom | Library Assistant Ⅲ, North Birmingham Regional Branch Library
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