With the advent of spring fast upon us, and the sun hanging longer in the sky each day, I felt this Robert Frost poem very appropriate. It seems no matter what work there is to be done, or what anyone on our block is involved in at any given time, at this time of year there always seems to be time to talk.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
A Time to Talk by Robert Frost
When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.