by Ruth Pitter
All in November's soaking mist
We stand and prune the naked tree,
While all our love and interest
Seem quenched in the blue-nosed misery.
Notes: Today is the birthday of the poet Ruth Pitter who was born on this day in 1897.
As a gardener herself, Ruth had an excellent understanding of flowers. Ruth once shared that she liked to write her poetry only after she finished bother her chores and her gardening.
My favorite book by Ruth is The Rude Potato. It's is a very witty and entertaining collection of poems about gardens and gardeners. This verse is from her 1941 book called The Diehards.