LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW
Big snowstorm here in the northwoods yesterday. Had to drive back from a meeting two hours away, and the trees were frosted with snow, and looking quite lovely and tranquil. Unfortunately, the landscape was also dotted with day-glo billboards shouting, "State's largest adult superstore!" But anyway, it made me think of Robert Frost's poem. Another foot of snow is predicted for Sunday.
Stopping by woods on a snowy evening
By 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.