Whatcha think?? No? Okay, I'll leave the poetry to the pros.
It's windy in the Southeast, y'all. They're talkin' 'bout twisters, too.
Anywho, Robert Frost is probably my favorite American poet.
Enjoy this pro.
"Bereft"
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking down hill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and the day was past.
Sombre clouds in the west were massed.
Out on the porch's sagging floor,
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret must be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God.
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