Autumn in New England is a beautiful place to be and it is that time of year again so I thought I would share this poem from Robert Frost – one of my personal favorites.
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.
BosGuy 
Yes, I marked this as cool. Poetry is cool, damn it. :)Frost wrote this poem in trimeter which echoes the form of poems like "Beowulf" and has a haunting sound (and sentiment) punctuated by the forceful alliteration.So much in such a little poem. It's amazing.
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