Archive for October, 2013

Lost October

The Arkansas River

This poem never fails to remind me of my father. It was one of his favorites, and he would recite it–at least the first couple of lines–with gusto. Such bittersweet memories.
There never comes a day like this,
All gold and shining like a bubble in the sun,
That I recall the time I told you I’d no time to play,
Work must be done.
Work must be done, and there that gold day wasted,
And there, the mellowness of earth and sky and leaf and air,
Went hour by hour untasted.
For scruples sown too well in such as I.
And there October’s brightness faded, turning
Her dear enchantment into dull November.
Setting in my brain one question burning.
What, now what do I remember,
Of work I bent above that day until,
It was too late to climb the golden hill.
–Elaine V. Emans

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