As I have discussed in class in our previous unit on poetry, Robert Frost is a favorite poet of mine. When I see this photo of my barn, I think of this poem.
"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost
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.
