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Fragmentary Blue
Robert Frost 1874 (San Francisco) – 1963 (Boston)
Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?
Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)--
Though some savants make earth include the sky;
And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wish for blue a whet.
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Citation
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"Fragmentary Blue" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 16 Jan. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/30855/fragmentary-blue>.