For every parcel I stoop down to seize
I lose some other off my arms and knees,
And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns,
Extremes too hard to comprehend at. once
Yet nothing I should care to leave behind.
With all I have to hold with~ hand and mind
And heart, if need be, I will do my best.
To keep their building balanced at my breast.
I crouch down to prevent them as they fall;
Then sit down in the middle of them all.
I had to drop the armful in the road
And try to stack them in a better load.

Poet: Robert Frost
Poem: 35. The Armful
Volume: West-Running Brook
Year: Published/Written in 1928
Poem of the Day: Dec 21 2003

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, The Armful, has received 9 comments. Click here to read them, and perhaps post a comment of your own.