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| This January already seems long to me. But it is pretty at times, like above on the Rancocas Creek in South Jersey. Seems a perfect time for some poetry from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Here is the January stanza from his work The Poet's Calendar. Click to enlarge. |
January
"Janus am I; oldest of potentates;
Forward I look, and backward, and below
I count, as god of avenues and gates,
The years that through my portals come and go.
I block the roads, and drift the fields with snow;
I chase the wild-fowl from the frozen fen;
My frosts congeal the rivers in their flow,
My fires light up the hearths and hearts of men."
