Especially when the October wind <br />With frosty fingers punishes my hair, <br />Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire <br />And cast a shadow crab upon the land, <br />By the sea's side, hearing the noise of birds, <br />Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks, <br />My busy heart who shudders as she talks <br />Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words. <br /> <br />Shut, too, in a tower of words, I mark <br />On the horizon walking like the trees <br />The wordy shapes of women, and the rows <br />Of the star-gestured children in the park. <br />Some let me make you of the vowelled beeches, <br />Some of the oaken voices, from the roots <br />Of many a thorny shire tell you notes, <br />Some let me make you of the water's speeches. <br /> <br />Behind a pot of ferns the wagging clock <br />Tells me the hour's word, the neural meaning <br />Flies on the shafted disk, declaims the morning <br />And tells the windy weather in the cock. <br />Some let me make you of the meadow's signs; <br />The signal grass that tells me all I know <br />Breaks with the wormy winter through the eye. <br />Some let me tell you of the raven's sins. <br /> <br />Especially when the October wind <br />(Some let me make you of autumnal spells, <br />The spider-tongued, and the loud hill of Wales) <br />With fists of turnips punishes the land, <br />Some let me make you of the heartless words. <br />The heart is drained that, spelling in the scurry <br />Of chemic blood, warned of the coming fury. <br />By the sea's side hear the dark-vowelled birds.<br /><br />Dylan Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/especially-when-the-october-wind/
