Paul's Corner: Gathering Leaves by Robert Frost

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Robert Frost


Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.

I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away

But the mountains I raise
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.

Next to nothing for weight,
And since they grow duller
From contact with earth,
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.
    --Robert Frost

Hoping granddaughter Lillian, 8,
Will memorize it or remember it, when 
She plays in the leaves.