Bereft

Robert Frost 1874 (San Francisco) – 1963 (Boston)

Where had I heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking down hill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and the day was past.
Sombre clouds in the west were massed.
Out on the porch's sagging floor,
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
Blindly striking at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret my be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

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Robert Frost

Robert Lee Frost was an American poet. His work was initially published in England before it was published in the United States. more…

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    "Bereft" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 18 Sep. 2020. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/30837/bereft>.

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