of the seasons comes slowly and grabs our attention suddenly
I awoke today and found
The frost perched on the town
It hovered in a frozen sky
and it gobbled summer down
When the sun turns traitor cold
and all the trees are shivering in a naked row
I get the urge for going, but I never seem to go.
— Tom Rush
Part of this great song
All that stays is dying, all the lives is getting out.
reminded me of the poem I quoted below. Compare to:
What lives, lives underground.
What dies, dies without struggle.
— excerpt from “Harvest” by Louise Glück from A Village Life.
Discuss.
