Meeting And Passing
by: Robert Frost (1875 - 1963)
As I went down the hill along the wall
There was a gate I had leaned at for the view
And had just turned from when I first saw you
As you came up the hill. We met. But all
We did that day was mingle great and small
Footprints in summer dust as if we drew
The figure of our being less that two
But more than one as yet. Your parasol
Pointed the decimal off with one deep thrust.
And all the time we talked you seemed to see
Something down there to smile at in the dust.
(Oh, it was without prejudice to me!)
Afterward I went past what you had passed
Before we met and you what I had passed.
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Fire And Ice
Reluctance
Wind And Window Flower
Dust Of Snow
For Once, Then Something
Good-Bye, And Keep Cold
Mending Wall
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Putting In the Seed
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