A TIME TO TALK
by: Robert Frost (1874-1963)
- HEN a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.
"A Time to Talk" is
reprinted from Mountain Interval. Robert Frost. New York:
Henry Holt, 1921. |
MORE
POEMS BY ROBERT FROST |
|