The Story Archive

The Wood-Pile

Robert Frost · 1914 CE · Poem · Modern / American · Modernist

Out walking in a frozen swamp one grey day, a man decides to turn back, then decides he will go on farther and see, following a small bird that keeps a tree between them and takes his interest for theft of the white feather in its tail. What he comes on instead is a cord of maple, cut and split and piled and measured, grey as the year before's growth, clematis wound round it and a stake still holding it from falling. The most quietly unsettling of the North of Boston walks, and the one that says least about what it has found.

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