I've been searching the internet for a poem. I saw it on the subway, on one of those "keep the commuter occupied and happy" posters. I enjoy those...sometimes they're word or mind games, sometimes they're just something to ponder. In any case they're better than more ads for Survivor and The Apprentice. This one was a short poem by Ethelwyn Wetherald...I think the title had to do with theft or stealth. It personifies frost as a stealthy thief, stealing life from the landscape. I can't find that one, but here's another of hers. February by Ethelwyn Wetherald The only collection of Wetherald's work that I can find is a century out of print. Maybe someone needs to research and gather and publish her oeuvre... |