Friday, July 08, 2016

Stopping by weeds on a muggy morning

Whose weeds these are I think I know--
They're mine! But I shall pull them so
they don't crowd out my beets and peas,
zucchini, radishes, and o-

kra. Can you hear my angry knees?
They crack and pop and beg me, "Please
don't make us mash down on the ground!"
But I must kneel to pull with ease

the weeds that pop up all around
my garden plot, where growth abounds.
Between the beans the weeds reach deep
and stubborn roots that grasp the ground.   

The loam is lovely, dark and deep,
but I have weeds to pull up--heaps! 
And rows to hoe before I sleep,
and rows to hoe before I sleep.

1 comment:

penn said...

<3 love Frost. He was my entry to poetry. I have the original of this memorized.