(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

poet Robert Frost
#1 on top 500 poets
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Now Close The Windows

Now close the windows and hush all the fields:
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.

It will be long ere the marshes resume,
I will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
But see all wind-stirred.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003


Read poems about / on: loss, wind, tree

Comments about this poem (Now Close The Windows by Robert Frost )

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  • * Sunprincess * (10/31/2012 12:52:00 AM)

    wow..a masterpiece..well expressed..fabulous.. :)

    1 person liked.
    		2 person did not like.
  • Andrew Hoellering (1/4/2010 3:09:00 AM)

    The poem describes how much is lost to the poet by the simple act of closing the window, but as so often when one loses one source of happiness, another remains.
    (Line six incidentally should read, ‘It will be long ere the earliest bird.’)

    3 person liked.
    		3 person did not like.
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