Summer Solstice

 Pictured is Jenny's new haircut

So was I once myself a swinger of birches

 And so I dream of going back to be.

 It's when I'm weary of considerations,

 And life is too much like a pathless wood

 Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs

 Broken across it, and one eye is weeping

 From a twig's having lashed across it open.

 I'd like to get away from earth awhile

 And then come back to it and begin over.

 May no fate willfully misunderstand me

 And half grant what I wish and snatch me away

 Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:

 I don't know where it's likely to go better.

 I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,

 And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk

 Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,

 But dipped its top and set me down again.

 That would be good both going and coming back.

 One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

This partial poem is called Birches by Robert Frost

 

Tags: robert frost, poetry, summer solstice, summer,