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contemplating friendship through poetry

A Time to Talk

by Robert Frost


When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.


how great it is to contemplate the worth of friendship?

Posted by daniel anderson on October 3, 2007 03:12 PM |

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