Tag Archives: Edna St. Vincent Millay

On Year 5: April’s Poems


Happy National Poetry Month! It’s also the first full month of spring, but it hasn’t really felt like it:  April snow, April frost, April freeze.  It’s been cold and miserable, for the most part.  T. S. Eliot knew what he was talking about when he said it was the cruellest month.   April 1, Wednesday: …

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On Year 4: April’s Poems


It’s National Poetry Month! It’s also April, which is my favorite month, because it is the month of beginnings for me–when the world is finally free of winter (despite this year’s attempts to hold on), and when the flowers begin to show.  (My birthday’s in April, too, and I love  my birthday.)  I tried, this year, …

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On Year 3: April’s Poems


April is the cruelest month, and the coolest.  April is, of course, celebrated as National Poetry Month.  In April, just like Chaucer’s pilgrims, I always feel restless when the snow recedes and the flowers begin teasing, when the birds come back, when the mud oozes forth.    In the poetic realm, I am not, by …

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On Year 3: January’s Poems


January!  What a hard month.  The cruelest one–don’t you believe anyone who tells you that’s April.  The big come-down off the holiday high, the wind howling down from the north, freezing everything it touches…and then suddenly, a day with a warm south wind that gives you a hint of what you’ve been missing, before yanking you …

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On the Second April’s Poems


April is a month of contradictions.  Which, of course, might be the reason why I was born in it.  It’s an ornery month, reflecting my personality running up to school’s April break more than a bit accurately. Still, April, of course, is National Poetry Month.  So that’s all the more reason to read poems to …

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On the Second January’s Poems


I can’t begin to tell you how much I hate winter.  It worries me terribly.  Everything is so much harder, and darker, and more expensive.  Twice this month I’ve taken a header, once in the driveway, once in the parking lot at the Indian Island School on the way to a basketball game.  Winter hurts.  …

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On December’s Poems


Another short month.  Only 16 class days in December, before the Christmas break; only, then, 16 poems–but we lost one because of the snow day early in the month.  Simply because winter began in this month, I decided that we should read poems about snow.  Emerson’s “The Snowstorm” conveniently appeared on The Writer’s Almanac on …

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