Tag Archives: Robert Frost

Poem – The Pauper Witch of Grafton

NOW that they’ve got it settled whose I be, I’m going to tell them something they won’t like: They’ve got it settled wrong, and I can prove it. Flattered I must be to have two towns fighting To make a … Continue reading

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Posted in Robert Frost (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco) | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Poem – The Line Gang

Here come the line-gang pioneering by, They throw a forest down less cut than broken. They plant dead trees for living, and the dead They string together with a living thread. They string an instrument against the sky Wherein words … Continue reading

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Poem – The Objection To Being Stepped On

At the end of the row I stepped on the toe Of an unemployed hoe. It rose in offense And struck me a blow In the seat of my sense. It wasn’t to blame But I called it a name. … Continue reading

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Poem – Sitting by a Bush in Broad Sunlight

When I spread out my hand here today, I catch no more than a ray To feel of between thumb and fingers; No lasting effect of it lingers. There was one time and only the one When dust really took … Continue reading

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Poem – Looking for a Sunset Bird in Winter

The west was getting out of gold, The breath of air had died of cold, When shoeing home across the white, I thought I saw a bird alight. In summer when I passed the place I had to stop and … Continue reading

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Poem – The Demiurge’s Laugh

It was far in the sameness of the wood; I was running with joy on the Demon’s trail, Though I knew what I hunted was no true god. It was just as the light was beginning to fail That I … Continue reading

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Poem – In Hardwood Groves

The same leaves over and over again! They fall from giving shade above To make one texture of faded brown And fit the earth like a leather glove. Before the leaves can mount again To fill the trees with another … Continue reading

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