October
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.
Notes
What if autumn could be persuaded to stay a little longer? In Robert Frost's October, the poet addresses the month almost as an old friend, asking it to slow the falling leaves, soften the passing hours, and delay the arrival of winter. There is something deeply human in this gentle attempt to negotiate with time. Our awareness of impermanence produces a peculiar contradiction: we understand that beauty exists through change, yet we wish to preserve it by suspending that very process. Frost's plea reveals how attachment transforms the passing of time into an experience of loss. We cannot inhabit a moment without also anticipating its disappearance, and perhaps this anticipation is what makes the moment precious. October's Decay finds a quieter expression here, in the wish to prolong what we know must end. Frost reminds us how often we ask life for just a little more time, even when we know it cannot answer. #RobertFrost #AmericanPoetry #Romanticism #Impermanence #AutumnPoetry