The Armful by Robert Frost

                                          Robert Frost
      
For every parcel I stoop down to seize


I lose some other off my arms and knees,


And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns,


Extremes too hard to comprehend at once.


Yet nothing I should care to leave behind.


With all I have to hold with hand and mind


And heart, if need be, I will do my best.


To keep their building balanced at my breast.


I crouch down to prevent them as they fall;


Then sit down in the middle of them all.


I had to drop the armful in the road


And try to stack them in a better load.