Snow falling and night falling fast, oh fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.
The woods around it have it - it is theirs,
All animals are smothered in their lairs.
I am too absent-minded to count;
The loneliness includes me unawares.
And lonely as it is, that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less -
A blanket whiteness of benighted snow
With no expression, nothing to express.
They cannot scare me with their empty spaces
Between stars - on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places
NOTE: I am sorry to go all your poetry on your arse - reading someone else's idea of a good poem is only a step up from reading their own shiteful poetry, in my opinion, but I'm just a bit too shattered to blog intelligibly and this is a very prettily sad poem. Plus it's Frost and I'm pretty sure it's illegal not to like him. Between now and next time I will try to think up an innane topic to write about or somebody new I can insult and then befriend...