Northern Musing

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  • Nature

    Northern Musing

    The days of night are so long.
    But I can handle the light if it is not too strong.
    Across this northern shore
    Night is once again chased away,
    Constant dark is no more.
    Despite the excessive dark and light, I love this northern port.
    Where life itself can be a sport.
    Up here there is no need to wonder why
    When each day is a trial just to get by.
    It helps one to know that life is good.
    Smiling, I go about collecting my wood.

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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