Hour Eight

I am not really pleased with this one at all

but am posting anyway–the idea is intriguing


This poem takes its inspiration from Stopping by the woods on a snowy evening by Robert Frost.

Between the woods and frozen lake


aubade and sunset define a day –between

those times sun glow and light are strong, harsh, the

need to bask in that glow wars within me with woods

offer of refuge from the light and

heat of midday, especially. My indecision has me frozen

there is no deciding, so I row out onto the lake

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *