Robert Frost

(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

Atmosphere - Poem by Robert Frost

Inscription for a Garden Wall

Winds blow the open grassy places bleak;
But where this old wall burns a sunny cheek,
They eddy over it too toppling weak
To blow the earth or anything self-clear;
Moisture and color and odor thicken here.
The hours of daylight gather atmosphere.


Comments about Atmosphere by Robert Frost

  • Susan Williams (3/22/2016 1:32:00 PM)


    All who would desire to be a poet should examine this poem well. This man was blessed to write and thereby be a blessing to others. It flows out of him, it etches its words in the corners of our hearts. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 11, 2016



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