Thursday, February 21, 2008

Look at the Woods

I've had enough of living on cough drops. I pass through life wondering where my next Kleenex will come from. I'm tired of my cold. I'm tired of the weather.

I was going to post an I'm sick and sick of winter kind of thing. I looked out the window of my office and saw something that changed my mind -- the woods. Here's a poem I loved as a child and can recite by heart.

I feel better and I hope you will too.

Stopping By The Woods on A Snowy Evening
Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

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