# A Time To Talk

Robert Frost · English · Poem

Rights: Public-domain text


When
a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.

Source: https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/29345
Text edition: https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/29345