Robert Frost Yells Out the Door
Roll stones down on your head!
I'm done forever with potato crops
I have been treading on leaves all day until I am autumn-tired.
You make me ask if I would go to time
I never should again be warmed,
Or so much as uncross my feet,
Or better on dish plates all around the room,
But since we got nowhere,
'Twas human of You. I expected more
And to intensify the drama
Men work alone, their lots plowed far apart,
Why did You hurt me so? I am reduced
Last night your watchdog barked all night,
Wind goes from farm to farm in wave on wave,
Your last good avalanche
To end it. And if so
One in a cavern where you used to cook.
1996 © 2012