When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud
And goes down burning into the gulf below,
No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud
At what has happened. Birds, at least must know
It is the change to darkness in the sky.
Murmuring something quiet in her breast,
One bird begins to close a faded eye;
Or overtaken too far from his nest,
Hurrying low above the grove, some waif
Swoops just in time to his remembered tree.
At most he thinks or twitters softly, 'Safe!
Now let the night be dark for all of me.
Let the night bee too dark for me to see
Into the future. Let what will be, be.'
Robert Lee Frost
written by Robert Lee Frost, published on Fri 05.08.2009 at 16:12
We make ourselves a place apart
Behind light words that tease and flout,
But oh, the agitated hear
written by Robert Lee Frost, published on Thu 04.30.2009 at 07:49
The surest thing there is is we are riders,
And though none too successful at it, guiders,
written by Robert Lee Frost, published on Wed 04.01.2009 at 04:23
There overtook me and drew me in
To his down-hill, early-morning stride,
And set me five miles on my road
written by Robert Lee Frost, published on Tue 03.24.2009 at 18:27
Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
written by Robert Lee Frost, published on Fri 02.27.2009 at 12:47
Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about--
Wall within wall to shut fear out.