Bereft - A poem by Robert Frost

Robert Frost - Bereft

Where had I heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking down hill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and day was past.
Somber clouds in the west were massed.
Out in the porch's sagging floor,
leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret must be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God.

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Added: Feb 1 2004 | Viewed: 24160 times |

Comments (26)

Bereft - Comments and Information
Poet: Robert Frost Poem: 15. Bereft Volume: West-Running Brook Year: Published/Written in 1928 Poem of the Day: Aug 24 2000 Comment 26 of 26, added on April 22nd, 2013 at 4:06 PM. [URL= - [/URL - unarkatry from Iceland Comment 25 of 26, added on January 15th, 2013 at 3:41 PM. bSunwPgW I’m readading through some of your posts and so far so good. I’m still a litadtle lost on the subadject, but plan on bookadmarkading and comading back. I am reacsrehading other webadpage and blogs on related topadics, so I should have some more inforadmaadtion I can share on the subadject in later comadments. Anyadone else who has other resources on the subadject would be appreciated. Aman from Fiji Comment 24 of 26, added on March 14th, 2012 at 11:48 PM. SHuqbiGFfhzO MY 5TH EFFORTThe Golden ShovelBill and Will were unemployed,And nedeed to find work.There were two jobs available.But for a tiny quirk.The work was at the stockyards,shoveling behind sheep,so much of it in front of them.and piled up pretty deep.The foreman called out “Anyonewho wants to labor here,must bring to work your shovel.Are these instructions clear?”Neither Bill or Will had shovels,So each one made his plan.Bill bought the cheapest shovel.His credit card did scan.But Will went and sold everythingtrue, all things that he had.Will commissioned a solid gold shovel,with a rubber left foot pad.Bill and Will showed up to workto labor for their pay.But, Bill was mighty burdenedwith the question of the day.“How will you ever earn enoughTo pay for that gold shovel?You’ve spent each coin you ever had.You’ve even sold your hovel.”But Will just kept on shoveling,He toiled both night and day.Bill never got his answer.He wanted it that way.By Michael Grove Aida from Belize More Comments >> Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Bereft, has received 26 comments. Click here to read them, and perhaps post a comment of your own.

Poem Info
Poet: Robert Frost Poem: 15. Bereft Volume: West-Running Brook Year: Published/Written in 1928 Last read: 2013-05-18 10:59:14 Poem of the Day: Aug 24 2000 Viewed 24160 times. Added Feb 1 2004.

Frost Info
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