Slumped way down in a chair, with both his feet. / Against the stove, the hottest day that summer. / He looked so clean disgusted from behind / There was no one that dared to stir him up , / Or let him know that he was being looked at . / Apparently I hadn't buried him ( I may have knocked him down ) ;[…] 2012 March 2, Robert Frost, A Boy's Will and North of Boston (Dover Thrift Editions: Poetry), Courier Corporation, →ISBN, →OCLC, page 60: