Gathering Leaves

By Robert Frost

Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.

I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.

But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.

I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed
And what have I then?

Next to nothing for weight:
And since they grew duller
From contact with earth
Next to nothing for color.

Next to nothing for use.
But a crop is a crop,
And who's to say where
The harvest shall stop?

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10/31/09

Spades take up leaves No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Are light as balloons.
I make a great noise Of rustling all day Like rabbit and deer Running away.
	But the mountains I raise Elude my embrace, Flowing over my arms And into my face.
	I may load and unload Again and again Till I fill the whole shed And what have I then?
Next to nothing for weight: And since they grew duller From contact with earth Next to nothing for color.
Next to nothing for use. But a crop is a crop, And who's to say where The harvest shall stop?