He gave the solid rail a hateful kick.
From far away there came an answering tick
And then another tick. He knew the code:
His hate had roused an engine up the road.
He wished when he had had the track alone
He had attacked it with a club or stone
And bent some rail wide open like switch
So as to wreck the engine in the ditch.
Too late though, now, he had himself to thank.
Its click was rising to a nearer clank.
Here it came breasting like a horse in skirts.
(He stood well back for fear of scalding squirts.)
Then for a moment all there was was size
Confusion and a roar that drowned the cries
He raised against the gods in the machine.
Then once again the sandbank lay serene.
The traveler’s eye picked up a turtle train,
between the dotted feet a streak of tail,
And followed it to where he made out vague
But certain signs of buried turtle’s egg;
And probing with one finger not too rough,
He found suspicious sand, and sure enough,
The pocket of a little turtle mine.
If there was one egg in it there were nine,
Torpedo-like, with shell of gritty leather
All packed in sand to wait the trump together.
‘You’d better not disturb any more,’
He told the distance, ‘I am armed for war.
The next machine that has the power to pass
Will get this plasm in it goggle glass.’

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3 Comments

  1. bruce palmer says:

    When my children and I were little we discussed this poem of Robert Frost and decided we did not know what the poem was about. But one thing was for sure, he cursed the car for not being built more acceseble. As any one who has worked on a car, sometimes, just sometimes we would like to strangle the guy who put it in those tiny little places!!!

  2. I. master bate daily says:

    this poem wasnt bad. i some what enjoyed it. unfortunatly yesterday an egg kilded my cat. and all my machines are rebeling. so i now hate this poem. down with the eggs and machines. by the way jim if your reading this i got your weed come get it now you lazy nigger.

  3. Greg Sweetwyne says:

    what is the actual meaning of this poem

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