When Winter Find us

WINTER LOVE

The Curtain

HAYDEN CARRUTH

Just over the horizon a great machine of death is roaring and rearing

We can hear it always. Earthquake, starvation, the ever-renewing sun of corpse-flesh.

The Snow Is Deep on the Ground

KENNETH PATCHEN

The snow is deep on the ground.

Always the light falls

Softly down on the hair of my belovèd.

Sonnet 97: How like a winter hath my absence been

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

How like a winter hath my absence been

From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!

Winter Love

LINDA GREGG

I would like to decorate this silence,

but my house grows only cleaner

The Snow Fairy

CLAUDE MCKAY

Winter

TIMOTHY LIU

SNOWY WONDER

White-Eyes

MARY OLIVER

In winter

all the singing is in

the tops of the trees

Snow Day

BILLY COLLINS

Blizzard

LINDA PASTAN

The Six-Cornered Snowflake

JOHN FREDERICK NIMS

Winter Trees

WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

All the complicated details

of the attiring and

the disattiring are completed!

Crossing the Square

GRACE SCHULMAN

Squinting through eye-slits in our balaclavas,

we lurch across Washington Square Park

Lines: The cold earth slept below

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

The cold earth slept below;

Above the cold sky shone;

Choices

TESS GALLAGHER

Suddenly, in every tree,

an unseen nest

where a mountain

would be.

Horses in Snow

ROBERTA HILL WHITEMAN

Lips touching lips,

did that break my horizon

as much as those horses broke my belief?

The Darkling Thrush

THOMAS HARDY

I leant upon a coppice gate

When Frost was spectre-grey

Big Snow

PHILIP GROSS

THE BLIZZARD OF THE SELF

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

ROBERT FROST

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

Lines for Winter

MARK STRAND

Blizzard

WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

Snow:

years of anger following

hours that float idly down —

Ice

GAIL MAZUR

In the warming house, children lace their skates,

bending, choked, over their thick jackets.

The Snow Man

WALLACE STEVENS

Dust of Snow

ROBERT FROST

Now Winter Nights Enlarge

THOMAS CAMPION

In the Winter of My Thirty-Eighth Year

W. S. MERWIN

The Dead of Winter

SAMUEL MENASHE

WINTER IS COMING

Beyond the Red River

THOMAS MCGRATH

The birds have flown their summer skies to the south,

And the flower-money is drying in the banks of bent grass

After Apple-Picking

ROBERT FROST

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree

Toward heaven still,

Winter Solstice Chant

ANNIE FINCH

Early Frost

SCOTT CAIRNS

Early October Snow

ROBERT HAIGHT

In Winter

MICHAEL RYAN

THE SHORTEST MONTH

February

MARGARET ATWOOD

Winter. Time to eat fat

and watch hockey. In the pewter mornings, the cat,

February Evening in New York

DENISE LEVERTOV

As the stores close, a winter light

opens air to iris blue,

Late February

TED KOOSER

The first warm day,

and by mid-afternoon

the snow is no more

than a washing

strewn over the yards,

February Sky

BRUCE SMITH

The Dream of February

JOHN HAINES

Under the Edge of February

JAYNE CORTEZ Poems about the Beauty of Winter

Winter is the season when the whole world seems to go to sleep. The weather is cold, the ground is hard, and the trees and plants seem to be dead. Since there is little else to do, it is a time that is conducive to working hard. There isn't much else to do, and the weather seems to suggest that we must buckle down and do the things that we have been avoiding. This is not a bad thing. It can very satisfying to work hard and be creative. Creativity is part of our makeup. Without a purpose in our lives, depression would quickly set in.