Thursday, March 31, 2011

THIS POEM Transports Me Back To A Middle School Classroom, Watching Students First Realize That Poetry Can, Indeed, Inform Life.

golden maple leaves in fall

Nothing Gold Can Stay
- by Robert Frost 

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

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