The Wood-Pile
BY ROBERT FROST
Out walking in the frozen swamp one gray day,
I paused and said, 'I will turn back from here.
No, I will go on farther—and we shall see.'
The hard snow held me, save where now and then
One foot went through. The view was all in lines
Straight up and down of tall slim trees
Too much alike to mark or name a place by
So as to say for certain I was here
Or somewhere else: I was just far from home.
A small bird flew before me. He was careful
To put a tree between us when he lighted,
And say no word to tell me who he was
Who was so foolish as to think what he thought.
He thought that I was after him for a feather—
The white one in his tail; like one who takes
Everything said as personal to himself.
One flight out sideways would have undeceived him.
And then there was a pile of wood for which
I forgot him and let his little fear
Carry him off the way I might have gone,
Without so much as wishing him good-night.
He went behind it to make his last stand.
It was a cord of maple, cut and split
And piled—and measured, four by four by eight.
And not another like it could I see.
No runner tracks in this year's snow looped near it.
And it was older sure than this year's cutting,
Or even last year's or the year's before.
The wood was gray and the bark warping off it
And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis
Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle.
What held it though on one side was a tree
Still growing, and on one a stake and prop,
These latter about to fall. I thought that only
Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks
Could so forget his handiwork on which
He spent himself, the labor of his ax,
And leave it there far from a useful fireplace
To warm the frozen swamp as best it could
With the slow smokeless burning of decay.
Notice Annotate
The wood pile appears old with gray Ax- Don’t know what it means
wood and peeling bark. It is supported Frozen swamp, gray day- the setting
by a growing tree and a stake that are and atmosphere.
about to fall. Tall slim trees, straight lines- the
appearance of the trees.
Connect Respond
I don’t know why but this poem This poem is about a person walking
reminds me of a scene of Games of through a frozen swamp and how they
Thrones where there is people in a encounter a small bird, but become
frozen lake and they are surrounded by captivated by a pile of decaying wood.
like zombies The speaker reflects on the neglect of
the person who left the wood behind
and contemplates the irony of leaving it
to slowly burn in the frozen swamp.
The poem explores themes of isolation,
the passage of time, and the
consequences of neglecting one's work.
Close read the text Analyze
Frozen swamp, gray day- the setting The poem is set in a frozen swamp on a
and atmosphere. gray day. The speaker walks among tall
trees, unsure of their direction. They
It is highlighted because this is very encounter a cautious bird and find a
important, it tells us the setting and decaying woodpile. The setting feels
atmosphere of the poem. isolated and neglected.
