Today is the birthday of the late Robert Frost, a great American poet, of whose poetry we all in my generation needed to read in high school and in undergraduate American Literature courses.
He was born in San Francisco on March 26, 1874 and died on January 29, 1963. He was a master of the American rural life and the colloquialisms of American English.
I find this simple poem a poignant description of the street children of our time.
by Robert Frost
They leave us so to the way we took,
As two in whom them were proved mistaken,
That we sit sometimes in the wayside nook,
With mischievous, vagrant. seraphic look,
And try if we cannot feel forsaken.