October Maples, Portland by Richard Wilbur

This was today’s poem from Davey’s. ┬áIt’s beautiful and reminds me of the Northeast, which I miss quite a bit.

October Maples, Portland

Richard Wilbur

The leaves, though little time they have to live,
Were never so unfallen as today,
And seem to yield us through a rustled sieve
The very light from which time fell away.

A showered fire we thought forever lost
Redeems the air. Where friends in passing meet,
They parley in the tongues of Pentecost.
Gold ranks of temples flank the dazzled street.

It is light of maples, and will go;
But not before it washes eye and brain
With such a tincture, such a sanguine glow
As cannot fail to leave a lasting stain.

So Mary’s laundered mantle (in the tale
Which, like all pretty tales, may still be true),
Spread on the rosemary-bush, so drenched the pale
Slight blooms in its irradiated hue,

They could not choose but to return in blue.

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5 Responses
  1. I really love this poem. Just beautiful.

  2. Cizlar says:

    This poem made me choose wilbur for Jpo and is perfect for fall….I think I recited it on one friday night but no-one really got its awesomeness. (Probably because I slurred my speech in a drunken stupor)

  3. Cizlar says:

    also. what is the image next to my name? Did I put that there or did you Peter?

  4. Lord Bloch says:

    From what John has told me, it’s an image generated from an algorithm based on your unique e-mail address. If you want to change it you can get an avatar (image next to my name) at http://www.gravatar.com

  5. […] (Richard Wilbur, “October Maples: Portland”) […]

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