“Poems let us feel that power open up inside our bodies when we read the words out loud.”
— Elizabeth Alexander
I was surprised that I had yet to post any Robert Frost poems. Frost is one of my favorite poets, and I find it difficult to choose just one poem of his to feature. Yet, this month the selection was easy—“The Sound of Trees” fit perfectly. As the season turns from summer to fall, I find myself craving nature. I have always been drawn to trees and the sounds they make. Unlike Frost, I think there is meaning in that “noise.”
The Sound of Trees
by Robert Frost
I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?
We suffer them by the day
Till we lose all measure of pace,
And fixity in our joys,
And acquire a listening air.
They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.
My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone.