Saturday, May 06, 2006

"Dead," was all he answered.

Last line of 'The Death of the Hired Man' from 'North Of Boston' (1914) by Robert Frost.

The thing I like about this poem is the definition of 'Home' that the author offers.

“Home is the place where, when you have to go there,They have to take you in.”

It all depends on what you mean by home.

Though kinship generally determines your home, it is not always where you seek emotional support.

Home, for me is where my heart lies, where I attain emotional fulfillment, where I always yearn to go

...and fortunately for me and many others, its their own beloved family.

Silas in the poem feels more at home on the farm and returns there to die. His self-respect prevents him from seeking shelter and offers to work again.

I especially love it towards the end

. . . I'll sit and see if that small sailing cloud.
Will hit or miss the moon.
It hit the moon.
Then there were three there, making a dim row, The moon, the little silver cloud, and she.
Warren returned--too soon, it seemed to her,

Slipped to her side, caught up her hand and waited.
"Warren," she questioned.
"Dead," was all he answered.

Home.. my little piece of this world.

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