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November – The Eyes of Many Elves


  • Photo by Fung Lin Hall

    November
    Besides the autumn poets sing,
    A few prosaic days
    A little this side of the snow
    And that side of the haze.
    A few incisive mornings,
    A few ascetic eyes, —
    Gone Mr. Bryant’s golden-rod,
    And Mr. Thomson’s sheaves.
    Still is the bustle in the brook,
    Sealed are the spicy valves;
    Mesmeric fingers softly touch
    The eyes of many elves.
    Perhaps a squirrel may remain,
    My sentiments to share.
    Grant me, O Lord, a sunny mind,
    Thy windy will to bear!

    Emily D on November and Norway
    (By Sadie Stein – Paris Review)

    Emily Dickinson’s: “November always seemed to me the Norway of the year.”

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