Robert Frost

(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

The Vantage Point - Poem by Robert Frost

If tires of trees I seek again mankind, Well I know where to hie me--in the dawn, To a slope where the cattle keep the lawn. There amid loggin juniper reclined, Myself unseen, I see in white defined Far off the homes of men, and farther still, The graves of men on an opposing hill, Living or dead, whichever are to mind. And if by noon I have too much of these, I have but to turn on my arm, and lo, The sun-burned hillside sets my face aglow, My breathing shakes the bluet like a breeze, I smell the earth, I smell the bruisèd plant, I look into the crater of the ant.

Comments about The Vantage Point by Robert Frost

  • Veteran Poet - 1,886 Points Mark Arvizu (10/5/2015 8:51:00 AM)

    Nature is a beautiful refuge from mankind.... (Report) Reply

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  • Gold Star - 30,227 Points * Sunprincess * (3/18/2014 9:03:00 AM)

    ........the vantage point can give us a new perspective...enjoyed.. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: sun, tree

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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