Wednesday, April 05, 2006
A Wednesday Observation
Why is it whenever I'm trying to be quick at the grocery store there's always a lady in front of me at the express lane buying cigarettes with a personal check?
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3 comments:
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.
I have an audio reading of that poem you may be interested in...
I'm more than interested in hearing that...
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