A Boundless Moment
He halted in the wind, and -- what was that
"Oh, that's the Paradise-in-bloom," I said;
We stood a moment so in a strange world,
Robert Frost
Far in the maples, pale, but not a ghost?
He stood there bringing March against his thought,
And yet too ready to believe the most.
And truly it was fair enough for flowers
had we but in us to assume in march
Such white luxuriance of May for ours.
Myself as one his own pretense deceives;
And then I said the truth (and we moved on).
A young beech clinging to its last year's leaves.
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