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Robert Frost - Gathering Leaves

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 grew 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?

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Added: Feb 1 2004 | Viewed: 35095 times | Comments and analysis of Gathering Leaves by Robert Frost Comments (103)

Gathering Leaves - Comments and Information

Poet: Robert Frost
Poem: 37. Gathering Leaves
Volume: New Hampshire
Year: Published/Written in 1923
Poem of the Day: Mar 25 2012

Comment 103 of 103, added on January 1st, 2016 at 5:45 AM.
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kbmVxGzb from Martinique
Comment 102 of 103, added on December 31st, 2015 at 12:11 PM.
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xtWAevAv from Barbados
Comment 101 of 103, added on December 31st, 2015 at 8:33 AM.
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RXtmoHhyGvtaGLUy from Turks and Caicos Islands

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