Richard Wilbur's "October Maples, Portland"

The Daily Poem

Goldberry Studios

Education For Kids, Arts, Kids & Family

4.6 • 729 Ratings

🗓️ 30 October 2019

⏱️ 7 minutes

🔗️ Recording | iTunes | RSS

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Summary

Today's poem is Richard Wilbur's "October Maples, Portland." Remember: rate, review, spread the word.

The leaves, though little time they have to live,

Were never so unfallen as today,

And seem to yield us through a rustled sieve

The very light from which time fell away.

A showered fire we thought forever lost

Redeems the air. Where friends in passing meet,

They parley in the tongues of Pentecost.

Gold ranks of temples flank the dazzled street.

It is light of maples, and will go;

But not before it washes eye and brain

With such a tincture, such a sanguine glow

As cannot fail to leave a lasting stain.

So Mary’s laundered mantle (in the tale

Which, like all pretty tales, may still be true),

Spread on the rosemary-bush, so drenched the pale

Slight blooms in its irradiated hue,

They could not choose but to return in blue.

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Transcript

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0:00.0	We've all been there. You have an unexpected medical expense or you get into a fender bender, but you don't have the money to pay for it immediately.
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0:28.1	evolved bank and trust member fdic hello and welcome back to the dating poem hereem here on the Close Reeds Podcast Network.
0:40.2	I'm David Kern.
0:41.3	Today's poem is by an American poet named Richard Wilbur, who lived from 1921 to 2017.
0:47.3	He is one of my favorite poets, and I've shared a number of poems with you by him over the course of the last year or so.
0:55.7	Today's poem is called October Maples, Portland. It goes like this. The leaves, though little time they have to live,
1:06.4	were never so unfallen as today, and seemed to yield us through a rustled sieve, the very light from which they fell away.
1:16.7	A showered fire we thought forever lost redeems the air, where friends in passing meet, they parlay in the tongues of Pentecost.
1:27.9	Gold ranks of temples flank the dazzled street.
1:32.1	It is a light of maples and will go,
1:35.6	but not before it washes eye and brain with such a tincture,
1:40.3	such a sanguine glow as cannot fail to leave a lasting stain.
1:47.1	So Mary's laundered mantle, in the tale which, like all pretty tales may still be true,
1:53.6	spread on the rosemary bush, so drenched the pale, slight blooms in its irradiated hue.
2:03.8	They could not choose but to return in blue.
2:11.8	So I like to kind of Google around when I read a poem for this show and just kind of see what is the general consensus, how much writing has been done. I like to get sort of a sort of sense of perspective
2:17.0	on how many
2:18.5	people are talking about a poem. Certain poems like, you know, the rhyme of the ancient mariner or
2:23.2	Azamanda or something like that are getting tons and tons of writing. They're on blog posts
	...

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