An Interview by John B. Tabb I sat with chill December Beside the evening fire. "And what do you remember," I ventured to inquire, "Of seasons long forsaken?" He answered in amaze, "My age you have mistaken; I've lived but thirty days." Find Related Poems December Poems Poems About the Seasons Funny Poems
An Interview by John B. Tabb I sat with chill December Beside the evening fire. "And what do you remember," I ventured to inquire, "Of seasons long forsaken?" He answered in amaze, "My age you have mistaken; I've lived but thirty days."