… Dust of snow. It is unexpected. Grace comes in a moment. Dust of Snow The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of … Continue reading

… Dust of snow. It is unexpected. Grace comes in a moment. Dust of Snow The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of … Continue reading
… Birches When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy’s been swinging them. But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay As ice-storms do. Often you … Continue reading
… I never used to like The Death of the Hired Man very much. But I’ve changed my mind. This little bit of a play, a dialogue between Mary and Warren, wife and husband, about a hobo named Silas, a … Continue reading
… My long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree Toward heaven still, And there’s a barrel that I didn’t fill Beside it, and there may be two or three Apples I didn’t pick upon some bough. But I am done … Continue reading
… It is Time that, after all, doesn’t like a wall. As we all know those that are built to keep people out don’t work that well if indeed they work at all. The Berlin Wall, the Great Wall of … Continue reading
I found a dimpled spider, fat and white, On a white heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth— Assorted characters of death and blight Mixed ready to begin the morning right, Like the ingredients … Continue reading
… As strict as Robert Frost could be about meter, here he speaks in variations of a loosely vernacular iambic pentameter, and when he reads, taking on the character of the narrators, he adds asides, and makes the listener feel … Continue reading
… It’s been muggy in the mountains; hot and always about to rain, the flies biting, stinging the legs. When the sun was out, I chased after the butterflies around the Rose of Sharon and the pond trying to catch … Continue reading
……… It has just begun to rain, freshening the remains of the day. Cachito was glad to see me when I came home. I threw his toy mouse and he ran batting it down the hall, grabbing it in his … Continue reading
… While I was staying with Dad at the end of June, on June 26th to be exact, the day before his birthday, a doe was hit on the road across from his house during the night although I didn’t … Continue reading
The Tuft of Flowers “Iamb the Iamb,” Robert Frost said. As strictly as The Tuft of Flowers sticks to form (iambic pentameter couplets here), in the reading Frost changes words: the instead of a in a reedy brook and it … Continue reading
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 … Continue reading