Frost’s speaker begins by puzzling over why people tolerate the constant noise of trees near their homes. That “sound” is not just leaves rustling; it feels like a voice talking endlessly about leaving but never actually going. The trees seem wise in their rootedness, yet they stir something restless in the speaker. Watching them sway from a window or door makes his feet tug and his head move as if he too wants to break away. He imagines a future day when the trees are tossing loudly enough to frighten the clouds, and on that day he will finally make the reckless choice to depart. The mood is one of quiet longing mixed with frustration—caught between the comfort of staying and the urge to go. By the end, the speaker sounds ready to trade words for action, and the poem leaves us with a sense of determined, if still unfinished, escape.
The Sound of the Trees — Summary
I wonder about the trees. Why do we wish to bear Forever the noise of these More than another noise So close to our dwelling place? We suffer them by the day Till we lose all measure of pace, And fixity in our joys, And acquire a listening air. They are that that talks of going But never gets away; And that talks no less for knowing, As it grows wiser and older, That now it means to stay. My feet tug at the floor And my head sways to my shoulder Sometimes when I watch trees sway, From the window or the door. I shall set forth for somewhere, I shall make the reckless choice Some day when they are in voice And tossing so as to scare The white clouds over them on. I shall have less to say, But I shall be gone.