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Birches | The Poetry Foundation When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy’s been swinging them Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust— Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away You'd think the inner…
Birches by Robert Frost - Poems | Academy of American Poets When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy’s been swinging them But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay As ice-storms do Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many