When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am, "What is it?"
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.
Robert Frost
1 comment:
Hello again. I have to say that I am glad you shared this poem. I am a fan of Robert Frost's poems. I also am a fan of R. Brimm's poems. Have you checked out the journal "Chosen Words" you have to go over and check it out. R. Brimm shares many of his poems there. Thanks again for sharing this poem. Take care.
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