a poem to match the mood.

I've been trying to get a little more poetry in my life and made a goal to read a poem a day. It hasn't exactly worked that way, some days I read 5 or 6 and some days I don't read any at all.  But yesterday I was flipping through my Dickinson collection and came across this poem.

Frequently the woods are pink,
Frequently are brown;
Frequently the hills undress
Behind my native town.

Oft a head is crested
I was wont to see,
And as oft a cranny
Where it used to be.

And the earth, they tell me,
On its axis turned, --
Wonderful rotation
By but twelve performed.

And then today this was my view during my lunch walk. Fitting, yes?

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