Cold wind of autumn, blowing loud <br />At dawn, a fortnight overdue, <br />Jostling the doors, and tearing through <br />My bedroom to rejoin the cloud, <br />I know—for I can hear the hiss <br />And scrape of leaves along the floor— <br />How may boughs, lashed bare by this, <br />Will rake the cluttered sky once more. <br />Tardy, and somewhat south of east, <br />The sun will rise at length, made known <br />More by the meagre light increased <br />Than by a disk in splendour shown; <br />When, having but to turn my head, <br />Through the stripped maple I shall see, <br />Bleak and remembered, patched with red, <br />The hill all summer hid from me.<br /><br />Edna St. Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/autumn-daybreak/
