Aftermath Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Aftermath

Rating: 2.9


When the summer fields are mown,
When the birds are fledged and flown,
And the dry leaves strew the path;
With the falling of the snow,
With the cawing of the crow,
Once again the fields we mow
And gather in the aftermath.
Not the sweet, new grass with flowers
Is this harvesting of ours;
Not the upland clover bloom;
But the rowen mixed with weeds,
Tangled tufts from marsh and meads,
Where the poppy drops its seeds
In the silence and the gloom.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kim Kakuk 12 December 2012

I love Longfellow he is by far my favorite poet :)

20 69 Reply
Elaine Deering 15 April 2008

I think this is a beautiful poem! The word 'Aftermath, ' usually associated with tragic events, here has a second meeting-a second harvest that occurs when the fall harvest stirs the seeds around and causes new growth, weeks later, when winter is upon us. The rhyme scheme is pleasing, the images of tiny flowers among the underbrush are unexpected, and the message is that honest labor has its own rewards.

40 37 Reply
* Sunprincess * 23 August 2015

...........wonderful imagery...very nicely done ★

4 1 Reply
Edward Kofi Louis 27 February 2017

Mixed with weeds! Thanks for sharing.

3 2 Reply
Tom Allport 27 February 2017

a mowing poem with a poppy ending? brilliant!

4 0 Reply
Rose Marie Juan-austin 17 October 2021

A wonderful poem embellished with superb imagery and a meaningful message.

0 0 Reply
Mahtab Bangalee 25 November 2020

summer fields, birds, snow, crow, poppy seeds harvesting and the aftermath all words are interlinked each to others. Nature changes itself thru the course of time; The harvest is the time when I reap what I sow and the aftermath is the consequences or after-effects of a significant unpleasant even. In this poem the snow falling, crow cawing and after harvesting time where people feel the scarcity of crops and grains with works. Very poignant poetic expression.

0 0 Reply
Dr Antony Theodore 25 November 2020

But the rowen mixed with weeds, Tangled tufts from marsh and meads, Where the poppy drops its seeds In the silence and the gloom. Very poetic. tony

0 0 Reply
Glen Kappy 25 November 2020

Looking on my yard right now, I can relate to Longfellow's description and feeling. -GK

0 0 Reply
Deluke Muwanigwa 25 November 2020

Great rhyming without losing the plot and the flow

0 0 Reply
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