Snowy MorningWow, serious Winter Wonderland stuff going down here. But yikes! I have to get to work and swap a rental car for my car in the shop even before that. Ugh.
I love the noise in this poem, especially the harness bells on the horse, when he says, “Hey, what’s up?”
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
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.
— Robert Frost