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Video Home All Videos. Podcasts Home All Podcasts. Newsletter Subscribe. Poetry Foundation. Back to. By Robert Frost. When I see birches bend to left and right. Across the lines of straighter darker trees. I like to think some boy's been swinging them. But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay. As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them. As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells. Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust—. You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load. And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed.
So low for long, they never right themselves:. You may see their trunks arching in the woods. Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground. Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair. Before them over their he to dry in the sun. With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm. Some boy too far from town to learn baseball. And not one but hung limp, not one was left.
For him to conquer. He learned all there was. Clear to Swinger of birches poem ground. He always kept his poise. Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish. Kicking his way down through the air to the ground. Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs. From a twig's having lashed across it open. And half grant what I wish and snatch me away. Not to return.
Earth's the right place for love:. I don't know where it's likely to go better. And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk. Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more. That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches. Source: The Poetry of Robert Frost More Poems by Robert Frost.
The CodeHeroics. The Flower-Boat. At Woodward's Gardens. See All Poems by this Author. See a problem on this ? More About This Poem. Birches By Robert Frost.
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Birches (poem)