On Year 5: November’s Poems
November: one of my favorite months. It just seems a release after all the colorful expectations of October. Time to settle down, get the wood in, freeze all the food to last through the winter. The leaves are gone. The birds are gone. The light, once Daylight Savings Time is over, is gone. Hibernation is the story here. Hunkering down next to the woodstove with a blanket and a book and a cup of tea. Waiting for winter, and for winter to be done.
Here are some poems.
November 3, Monday: Snow day–no school
November 4, Tuesday: Snow day–no school
November 5, Wednesday: “Snow Day” by Billy Collins (because I always read this one for the first snow day of the year; this is the earliest snow day I can remember.)
November 6, Thursday:”The Thrush” by Edward Thomas
November 7, Friday: “After Spending the Morning Baking Bread” by Jack Ridl (I want this life.)
November 10, Monday: “In Flanders Field” by John McCrae (The kids were fascinated by the line “We are the dead.” Perhaps humbled.)
November 11, Tuesday: Veterans’ Day–no school
November 12, Wednesday: “Her Kind” by Anne Sexton (Because it was just her birthday–and the juniors have begun reading The Crucible. Witch poem, anyone?)
November 13, Thursday: “How many times these low feet” by Emily Dickinson (Inside joke. I was out today and left this for the sub, because I was having an operation on my low foot.)
November 14, Friday: “To Spareness” by Jane Hirshfield
November 17, Monday: “November for Beginners” by Rita Dove
November 18, Tuesday: “Falling Leaves and Early Snow” by Kenneth Rexroth
November 19, Wednesday: “Like Coins, November” by Elizabeth Klise von Zerneck
November 20, Thursday: “Sonnet 84: While one sere leaf, that parting Autumn yields” by Anna Seward
November 21, Friday: “Ox Cart Man” by Donald Hall (One of my favorite poems ever.)
November 24, Monday: “Bless Their Hearts” by Richard Newman
November 25, Tuesday: “The Gift Outright” by Robert Frost
November 26-30: Thanksgiving break–no school
This is the shortest month in the school year. It seems, though, that it’s one of the most ripe in poetry. And there’s some great food in it, too.
Send me some poem suggestions. I’ll be ever thankful.