Poetry Sunday: My November Guest by Robert Frost

November is, in fact, one of my favorite months of the year, possibly because it contains my favorite holiday of the year, Thanksgiving. But also there is something about the weather of November. Summer's heat is finally gone from the Gulf Coast and on most days it is quite pleasant to be outside. I enjoy the misty moisty days of November. It is pleasant to sit on my patio and watch as new birds show up in the backyard almost every day. The birds that were "gone away" from Frost's Northeast are now our winter visitors; my "November guests," are arriving.

My November Guest

by Robert Frost

My sorrow, when she’s here with me,
  Thinks these dark days of autumn rain

Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
     She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
     She talks and I am fain to list:
She’s glad the birds are gone away,
She’s glad her simple worsted grey
     Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
     The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
     And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
     The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.