Sunday, February 25, 2007

September has come, It is hers whose vitality leaps in the autumn,

Whose nature prefers
Trees without leaves and a fire in the fire-place;
So I give her this month and the next
Though the whole of my year should be hers who has rendered already
So many of its days intolerable or perplexed
But so many more so happy;
Who has left a scent on my life and left my walls
Dancing over and over with her shadow,
Whose hair is twined in all my waterfalls
And all of London lilttered with remembered kisses.

- Louis MacNeice, "Autumn Journal"

3 comments:

suburban wonder said...

Nice, but um, FEBRUARY!

Or are you leaving New York strewn with remembered kisses?

garfer said...

I am suffering from windchill and the sneezy lurgy.

I blame the shouty girl from the Bronx. I should have known she was infectious.

mimi buzzard said...

ha ah ha!