Good-bye, and Keep Cold This saying good-bye on the edge of the dark And cold to an orchard so young in the bark Reminds me of all that can happen to harm An orchard away at the end of the farm All winter, cut off by a hill from the house. I dont want it girdled by rabbit and mouse, I dont want it dreamily nibbled for browse By deer, and I dont want it budded by grouse. (If certain it wouldnt be idle to call Id summon grouse, rabbit, and deer to the wall And warn them away with a stick for a gun.) I dont want it stirred by the heat of the sun. (We made it secure against being, I hope, By setting it out on a northerly slope.) No orchards the worse for the wintriest storm; But one thing about it, it mustnt get warm. How often already youve had to be told, Keep cold, young orchard. Good-bye and keep cold. Dread fifty above more than fifty below. I have to be gone for a season or so. My business awhile is with different trees, Less carefully nourished, less fruitful than these, And such as is done to their wood with an axe— Maples and birches and tamaracks. I wish I could promise to lie in the night And think of an orchards arboreal plight When slowly (and nobody comes with a light) Its heart sinks lower under the sod. But something has to be left to God. Ahh, Mr. Frost. . .
Posted on: Sun, 01 Dec 2013 11:49:10 +0000
Trending Topics
© 2015