When 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 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.
(Robert Frost)
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Based on Topics: Time Poems, Friendship Poems, Hospitality PoemsBased on Keywords: visit, haven, thrust, horse, mellow, hoe, plod, slows, hoed