Poem of the Month

Nothing Gold Can Stay

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.

...................

I know it is in the middle of the summer. I know.

This poem really talks about the beginning of spring, and the beauty of spring--how the first glimpse of green is golden, priceless.

But the green that Bama has at this time of year is truly wonderful. I have not been around this much green in a long, long time. Tall green trees. Full, lush grasses. Everything is pretty much covered in something green: moss, fungus, etc. Even the air seems green.

This has been priceless, soothing green.