In my opinion, Frost’s statement about his poetry does accurately reflect his poems as they all contain both a literal and a metaphorical meaning.
This can clearly be seen in al of Frost’s poems that I have studied which include, “The Tuft of Flowers”, “Mending Wall”, “The Road Not Taken”, “Out, Out- “, “Spring Pools” and “Aquatinted with the Night”.
If you had any feelings, you that dug With your own hand--how could you? And I crept down the stairs and up the stairs To look again, and still your spade kept lifting. I heard your rumbling voice Out in the kitchen, and I don't know why, But I went near to see with my own eyes.
And it's come to this, A man can't speak of his own child that's dead.' 'You can't because you don't know how to speak.
She let him look, sure that he wouldn't see, Blind creature; and awhile he didn't see. 'Tell me what it is.' 'The wonder is I didn't see at once.
But at last he murmured, 'Oh,' and again, 'Oh.' 'What is it--what?
He saw her from the bottom of the stairs Before she saw him. But two that do can't live together with them.' She moved the latch a little. No, from the time when one is sick to death, One is alone, and he dies more alone.
She was starting down, Looking back over her shoulder at some fear. Friends make pretense of following to the grave, But before one is in it, their minds are turned And making the best of their way back to life And living people, and things they understand.
'There's something I should like to ask you, dear.' 'You don't know how to ask it.' 'Help me, then.' Her fingers moved the latch for all reply. I don't know how to speak of anything So as to please you. We could have some arrangement By which I'd bind myself to keep hands off Anything special you're a-mind to name. I'm not so much Unlike other folks as your standing there Apart would make me out. You'd think his memory might be satisfied--' 'There you go sneering now! You had stood the spade up against the wall Outside there in the entry, for I saw it.' 'I shall laugh the worst laugh I ever laughed. God, if I don't believe I'm cursed.' 'I can repeat the very words you were saying.
I won't come down the stairs.' He sat and fixed his chin between his fists. A man must partly give up being a man With women-folk. What was it brought you up to think it the thing To take your mother--loss of a first child So inconsolably--in the face of love. --his little grave; I saw you from that very window there, Making the gravel leap and leap in air, Leap up, like that, like that, and land so lightly And roll back down the mound beside the hole. You could sit there with the stains on your shoes Of the fresh earth from your own baby's grave And talk about your everyday concerns.