The Wandering Bark

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.

- the armful, robert frost