October

http://www.internal.org/view_poem.phtml?poemID=352
October
by: Robert Frost

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
For the grapes' sake along the wall.

Again, this is a poem by Robert Frost. I feel more connected to this poem than others because I was born in October. To me, the season autumn always gives me a sense of image where there is a vast grass land and tall mountains in the background. The chilly wind slowly threatens the lives of the nature, as the prelude to the deadly weather in the winter. From that image, I sense solitude and agony. It's not something to brag about but I have a solitary personality and I like spending time coming up with ideas to describe a place, nature, etc. This poem, strangely sounds extremely familiar to me as if I read it in the past, although I haven't. The agony comes up from no where and for no reason. This poem directly makes me see that image of the nature and although silent, peaceful, and harmonious, a strange feeling of strong hatred and pain rises in my mind. I don't know why but it just happens and it's the way it is. Many I'm one of the so-called Emos. Who knows. Anyhow, this poem sounds like as if it's about me, with the image of fall during October, clearly describing the nature of my personality with the sense of looking back the past.