Posted by Katie on Sunday, April 24, 2011 at 11:08pm.
I need help analyzing this poem please
Spring never felt like a beginning—
Something, perhaps, to do with school
And all the school-year's slow unspinning
From wound-up time as from a spool
Aimed at Summer's golden rule.
Beginnings are for autumn days
Keen as newly-sharpened pencils:
The promise of new friends, straight A's,
When hopes are drawn as clear as stencils
With yet no errors to erase.
Spring comes too late. The incompletes
Can't be made up. What wasn't learned
Looks at its neighbor's page and cheats,
But failure too is something earned.
Library books must be returned
And fines paid for the overdue
Procrastinations that accrue.
Finals impend—the term's too brief
For turning over a fresh leaf.
Too late, the daffodils come through.
A. E. Stallings
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