A Time to Talk by Robert Frost
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.
Thanks again for reminding me of the importance of friendship at last night’s event. Watching all of you engaging in lively conversation and knowing that many of you had come straight from work reminded me of Robert Frost’s poem, A Time to Talk.