A Late Walk

When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.

And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words

A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.

I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.

Robert Frost

3 thoughts on “Transcendence

  1. avidseeker 11/08/2014 / 12:02 pm

    Hi Rog,

    I just read that lovely poem by Robert Frost. When I clicked on the video to view it, a messaged appeared:This is not available in your country. I know Miami is a far piece from anywhere, but I think we’re still part of the USA!

    I’ll give it another try.



  2. Kathy 11/09/2014 / 10:05 pm

    Hi Roger, That is a wonderful poem. I was unable to view thew video as well. Same message as my mom got., XO


  3. Christina Cramer 11/19/2014 / 8:44 pm

    Lovely music and a familiar poem. I guess you had a lot of snow. Tina

    Sent from my iPhone


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