Between the woods and frozen lake
a gulf exists where one might take
a brief respite from travelling onwards
a chance to breathe, a chance to break

Between treacherous, ice-covered, unknown depths
and thick, dark woods of unknown breadth
a moment here to gather wits
and to choose which path might mean my death

No space between my hand and rifle
each heartbeat, nor each imagined, frightful
would-be end that I might meet
with wolves and icy death as rivals

And so I chew, and drink, and eat
and gather strength; dare not to sleep
for I must move, and choose between
living or dying; triumph, defeat

Photo by Riccardo Chiarini on Unsplash

Inspired by (and with credit to) Robert Frost’s Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening | Poetry Foundation