A Brook in the City I am almost there, I can rest and be still, By the sweet stream and the quiet land, the land of quietness and peace. And weep, I think, for a home forever lost! For I know the breadth of blooming flowers, the fluttering gold, The meadow where I ran as wild as the early birds.

But today I am in a city, shut up in the tall walls As I wait for a call from nature, the trees. I am silent, I hear them calling, singing for my return.

And when I finally come to the gates; A brook flies downward, ambling free, I step back to the silent forest again. I am whole, I can breathe!

• Robert Frost