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While everyone grapples with the implication of legalizing recreational marijuana (e.g., exactly how does one measure a DUI), caffeine ha...
31 October 2009
The Poetry of Robert Frost: The Collected Poems, Complete and Unabridged
Available at Books on First ($20.00)
Frost has a certain affinity with nature, and thus, poetry readers will always identify him with the changing of the seasons.
As far as I can see, this autumn haze
That spreading in the evening air both ways
Makes the new moon look anything but new
And pours the elm-tree meadow full of blue,
Is all the smoke from one poor house alone,
With but one chimney it can call its own;
So close it will not light an early light,
Keeping its life so close and out of sight
No one for hours has set foot outdoors
So much as to take care of evening chores.
The inmates may be lonely womenfolk.
I want to tell them that with all this smoke
They prudently are spinning their cocoon
And anchoring it to an earth and moon
From which no winter gale can hope to blow it --
Spinning their own cocoon did they but know it.