Archives for category: Months of Year



by William Carlos Williams

Long yellow rushes bending
above the white snow patches;
purple and gold ribbon
of the distant wood:
what an angle
you make with each other as
you lie there in contemplation.

Photo: Poet William Carlos Williams (1883-1963) with kittens. By training, William Carlos Williams was a medical doctor and often made house calls for sick children (he was a pediatrician). The photo with the kittens was probably taken during such a visit.


“To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June.”


PHOTO: Existential philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre and his cat.



by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth
let’s not speak in any language,
let’s stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines,
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands…

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves…

Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

Photo: “#12 Cloud” by J-Me, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


In November, the earth is growing quiet. It is making

its bed, a winter bed for flowers and small creatures.

The bed is white and silent, and much life can hide

beneath its blankets.

Excerpt from In November, a children’s picture book by Cynthia Rylant and Jill Kastner

This charming book — filled with beautiful illustrations — would make a wonderful Thanksgiving gift for a 4-6-year-old. Find it at




Poem by Elizabeth Coatsworth

November comes
And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.

With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.

The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring.

Photo: “Curios” by Tomas Castelazo


The word “October” has eight letters. The prefix “octo” means eight. Yet, October is the 10th month. That’s what happens when meddlers add January and February to the Roman calendar without changing October to a more suitable “Tentober” (can’t say “Dectober” because it would get confused with December). Anyway, we welcome the beautiful month of October — where autumn is decending in some parts of the Northern Hemisphere (but not in L.A.) and spring is upon our friends in the Southern Hemisphere. And to people who live in a place where the seasons change, I envy you!

Illustration: Jason Krieger, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


As we enter September, I’m celebrating with a 79 cake! Why? Because September (derived from the Latin “septem,” meaning seven) was the seventh month of the Roman calendar until Julius Caesar bumped it to the ninth month, where it remains today. (Julius was born in July and wanted the 7th named after who else? Himself.) So enjoy each and every one of the 30 days that September hath! I share a slice of my 79 cake with you!



by Sandra Olson Liatsos





on my burning skin

and stalks me

to the icy river

where I plunge right in.



on the bank

and steams

in its own heat.

I’d like to drag it

in with me

and freeze it

ears to feet.

Illustration: Tiger paint-by-number by Stephanie 189. Find more of her work here.


We now enter August, the eighth month of the year, named for Augustus Caesar (63 BC-14 AD), who founded the Roman Empire and served as its first emperor. All hail this beautiful summer month!

Illustration by JHeartSquared. Find more of her work here.