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Poem by Robert Lee Frost


The Armful


For every parcel I stoop down to seize
I lose some other off my arms and knees,
And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns,
Extremes too hard to comprehend at. once
Yet nothing I should care to leave behind.
With all I have to hold with hand and mind
And heart, if need be, I will do my best.
To keep their building balanced at my breast.
I crouch down to prevent them as they fall;
Then sit down in the middle of them all.
I had to drop the armful in the road
And try to stack them in a better load.



Robert Lee Frost


Robert Lee Frost's other poems:
  1. The Census-Taker
  2. Hyla Brook
  3. Meeting and Passing
  4. The Mountain
  5. The Self-Seeker


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