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NPR a few days ago did a story about snow in literature. It was a lovely story (found here Wintry Literature For a Snowy Day It ended with a recording of Robert Frost reciting Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening, and I was reminded again how incredibly lovely that poem is. I'm thinking about it again while watching the opening of the Olympics.

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's 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.

Robert Frost


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 13th, 2010 04:37 pm (UTC)
I didn't read the intro of your post very well, and for a second I thought you wrote this poem too. But THEN I got to the part where the person in the poem mentions a horse and that was the giveaway. I don't think you'd ever write a poem with a horse in it. =o)(Not unless it was being pushed off a cliff or something.)
Besides, the guy in the poem didn't mention anything about thuggies. And if he were *really* in the cold, he definitely would have been wearing a pair of thuggies.

Feb. 14th, 2010 06:55 am (UTC)
oh, I totally wrote that poem. I just didn't post the whole thing. At the end of it the horse freezes solid and explodes.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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