The Armful
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.
By Robert Frost
A very deep, thoughtful piece of poem. I love it. This is my first time here but now i have a reason to be passing by for some poetry.
I’m glad you enjoyed it, Antoine! I hadn’t seen that one ’til yesterday, and it really stuck with me.
Namaste,
Cyn
That’s remarkably thought-provoking