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Text of Poem

Now when the breath of frost has chilled
The waiting aspens, when the sky
Has floated the birds to another country
And summer’s brook goes dry,

I can review and list my losses
Without complaint, shoulder my grief
While the cold-fingered wind strips
My heart of its last leaf,

And watch time’s plow turn under days
Like stubble, I must lace my boots
And fill the cellar bins— they winter,
Trees, in their roots.

First Line
Now when the breath of frost has chilled
Original Pub Location
Original Publication Date
Original Citation
A Single Focus. Iowa City: Prairie Press. 1967. 42.
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