by Wendell Berry
I will wait here in the fields
to see how well the rain
brings on the grass.
In the labor of the fields
longer than a man’s life
I am at home. Don’t come with me.
You stay home too.
I will be standing in the woods
where the old trees
move only with the wind
and then with gravity.
In the stillness of the trees
I am at home. Don’t come with me.
You stay home too.
from:
https://luckywords.squarespace.com/episodes/2017/4/28/episode-128-poems-by-robert-frost-and-wendell-berry
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