.
GATHERING LEAVES
.
Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.
.
I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like a rabbit and deer
Running away.
.
But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.
.
I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?
.
Next to nothing for weight;
And since they grew duller
From contact with earth,
Next to nothing for color.
.
Next to nothing for use.
But a crop is a crop,
And who's to say where
The harvest shall stop?
........... Robert Frost
I might be absent for a while, the computer and I are going to town tomorrow — and I don't know if the computer will be ready when I'm ready to go back home.
