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 Frost)
More Poetry from Robert Frost:
- After Apple Picking (Robert Frost Poems)
- A Considerable Speck (Robert Frost Poems)
- In white: Frost's Early Version of Design (Robert Frost Poems)
- The Vanishing Red (Robert Frost Poem)
- The Generations of Men (Robert Frost Poem)
- The Grindstone (Robert Frost Poem)