Guest guest Posted November 23, 2005 Report Share Posted November 23, 2005 Gathering LeavesBy Robert Frost Spades take up leavesNo better than spoons,And bags full of leavesAre light as balloons. I make a great noiseOf rustling all dayLike rabbit and deerRunning away. But the mountains I raiseElude my embrace,Flowing over my armsAnd into my face. I may load and unloadAgain and againTill I fill the whole shed,And what have I then? Next to nothing for weight,And since they grew dullerFrom contact with earth,Next to nothing for color. Next to nothing for use.But a crop is a crop,And who's to say whereThe harvest shall stop? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You are posting as a guest. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.