A homage to Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"
I thought I knew a way to drain
My village house, under water, seemed to need a crane
Every attempt to dig or hoe a trench with my hoe
With each rain I ran to the mop; now my tender foe
Stretching its paws, my little cat must think it uncanny
That I spend hours gazing at a trench
Like a 90 year old nanny
Yet between my house and this giant puddle
The universe is wet and muddled
Then I gave my mop another swipe
Splashed droplets zigzagged down my unshaven face
"Could there be some error in this hole I am digging?"
My efforts went unanswered
Except for the raindrops that went pinging
A big puddle, dark and lovely, is the joy of a child's soul
And the demon for the one who can not drain
Do you get it? I have given my word
And must dig yonder before I rest
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.