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Song for Robert Frost
by Harry Furness

I sing for the dichotomy of Robert Frost
The New Englander born in San Francisco
Hard pressed as a young man to make a grade.
He walked the snowy woods listening
To apple blossoms bloom.
His fame yet gained o'er sea first made.
His stony stoicism tilled the hard ground
Of cold fields lined by rock walls
Making good neighbors laud his praise.
Tempered by his grace and wit
He sown his children before his time
On a road taken with success in learning.
Great teacher of our souls to sing,
What attics hide our worse fears of bones?
What button boxes keep our stories?
He tried to stay the course and point ourselves
And talk of how man does to women
With dirt to flower stains each their own.
He left his talking in his words,
Can't we hear what each is saying?
When others went west to find the answers
Robert saw the truth beneath the rocky soil
Of his beloved North-eastern roots
Shine on this glint of understanding what
We are to each. Reach past the path and live a life
For though life is both toil and trouble
Celebrate not just its passing
But your time that comes as it does pass.



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