Another Frost poem-- the temps inspired it

Not a lot to chat about this morning, probably because I'm a/ tired, and b/ you've heard all about the mundane details a lot lately, and why bore you? So, here's a poem that seems entirely appropriate-- third morning in a row that it's been in the 20s and dark. Today is supposed to get warm --60s-- so we'll work on the outdoor stuff later. At least, that's the idea. 

So, here's a favorite Frost poem for you, and enjoy your day!

C

Now Close the Windows

Now close the windows and hush all the fields;
     If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
     Be it my loss.

It will be long ere the marshes resume,
     It will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
     But see all wind-stirred.