Poem Robert Frost

NOT OF SCHOOL AGE

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Around bend after bend,
It was blown woods and no end.

I came to but one house

I made but the one friend.

 

At the one house a child was out

Who drew back at first in doubt,

But spoke to me in a gale
That blew so he had to shout.

 

His cheek smeared with apple sand,

A part apple in his hand,
He pointed on up the road

As one having war-command.

 

A parent, his gentler one,

Looked forth on her small son,

And wondered with me there

What now was being done.

 

His accent was not good

But I slowly understood.

Something where I could go-

He couldn’t but I could.

 

He was too young to go,
Not over four or so.
Well, would I please go to school,
And the big flag they had-you know

 

The big flag, the red-white-

And blue flag, the great sight-

He bet it was out today,
And would I see if he was right?

A SERIOUS STEP LIGHTLY TAKEN
A NATURE NOTE

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