Flower Gathering

I left you in the morning,

And in the morning glow,

You walked a way beside me

To make me sad to go.

Do you know me in the gloaming,

Gaunt and dusty gray with roaming?

Are you dumb because you know me not,

Or dumb because you know?

All for me?

And not a question

For the faded flowers gay,

That could take me from beside you

For the ages of a day?

They are yours, and be the measure

Of their worth for you to treasure,

The measure of the little while

That I've been long away.

-Robert Frost

I was thinking on my walk to school today about poetry, and this little beauty popped into my mind. I memorized it a couple years back and enjoy reciting it to myself on solitary walks, sometimes. It used to have a lot more meaning for me, especially while I was on my mission and had a girl I liked at home, but even now I can still enjoy its personification of the blossoming nature of absent love.