Today is my son’s 19th birthday and I am sending a shout out to him to wish him every good thing today and always. He is a wonder to me, a young man grown out of my blonde angel baby; a serious, loyal friend emerging from a playful toddler marching to his own drummer; a smart and thoughtful son from the ticklish baby I carried to Africa and back. Happy birthday, Alex. I look forward to watching what you will be and do next. Here’s a poem to guide you on your way.
A Time To Talk
by Robert Frost
When a friend calls me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, "What is it?"
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.
From: Schmidt, Gary D., ed. 1994. Poetry for Young People: Robert Frost.
Illus. by Henri Sorenson. New York: Scholastic. ISBN 0439254191.
FYI: An audio reading of the poem is also available here.