NovemberÂ’s days are thirty: ...

NovemberÂ’s days are thirty: NovemberÂ’s earth is dirty, Those thirty days, from first to last; And the prettiest things on ground are the paths.... Few care for the mixture of earth and water, Twig, leaf, flint, thorn, Straw, feather, all that men scorn, Pounded up and sodden by flood, Condemned as mud.
 See image
 Edward Thomas

Quotes from the same author

How nice it would be to be dead if only we could know we were dead. That is what I hate, the not being able to turn round in the grave and to say It is over.
 See image
 Edward Thomas
The simple lack of her is more to me than others' presence.
 See image
 Edward Thomas
Over the land freckled with snow half-thawed The speculating rooks at their nests cawed And saw from elm tops, delicate as flower of grass, What we below could not see, Winter pass.
 See image
 Edward Thomas