Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.
I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.
Running away.
But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.
I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?
Next to nothing for weight,
And since they grew duller
And since they grew duller
From contact with earth,
Next to nothing for color.
Next to nothing for color.
Next to nothing for use.
But a crop is a crop,
And who’s to say where
The harvest shall stop?
But a crop is a crop,
And who’s to say where
The harvest shall stop?
(images from ?)
(poem by Robert Frost)