By: Grothar, 4:43 PM GMT on December 10, 2015
By Robert Frost
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gap...
By: Grothar, 2:02 PM GMT on August 25, 2015
Updated: 8:22 PM GMT on October 23, 2015