Robert Frost (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)
Poems of Robert Frost
|121.||The Star Splitter||1/3/2003|
|123.||The Trial By Existence||1/13/2003|
|124.||The Tuft of Flowers||1/3/2003|
|125.||The Vanishing Red||1/13/2003|
|126.||The Vantage Point||1/13/2003|
|128.||They Were Welcome To Their Belief||1/3/2003|
|131.||To The Thawing Wind||1/13/2003|
|132.||Tree at my Window||1/3/2003|
|133.||Two Look at Two||1/3/2003|
|134.||Two Tramps in Mud Time||1/3/2003|
|136.||Waiting -- Afield At Dusk||3/29/2010|
|137.||What Fifty Said..||3/29/2010|
|138.||Wind And Window Flower||3/29/2010|
The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behind the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened: day was all but done.