First day of March, Poems, and Snow

I know a lot of people who connect March with warmer weather and oncoming spring. Those people are probably rather bitter at the moment. On the other hand, I’m one happy writer. Overcast weather is spot on, because I’m the pale person who hisses at sunlight. Overcast weather with snow, ice, and fog is basically the best thing since God introduced rain to the world. Anyhow, Friday was a disappointment because school was canceled. My only class that day is English and we were continuing a discussion about Edgar Allen Poe. In early high school I didn’t gravitate towards poetry. It wasn’t until a year or two ago that my innate love for poetry rose to the surface. Now, poetry is a very influential part of my life. Despite missing my favorite class, my weekend has still been filled with literature. I’ve been reading, writing short stories, and editing poetry that I might submit to a literary magazine. I’ve also spent time enjoying Wayland’s snow blanketed campus…. So I figured I’d share some of my favorite photographs and a favorite poem by Robert Frost.

“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
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.

wpid-img_20150122_182236.jpg

The little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.wpid-img_20150301_124741.jpg
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.wpid-img_20150122_182453.jpg
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.
~ Robert Frost

Funny story—when I was a kid, I would confuse Jack Frost and Robert Frost. I thought they were the same person, so I imagined this guy who would run around and freeze things. On his down time, during the summer for instance, he would spend his time writing poetry. My disappointment was real when I finally realized they weren’t the same people. It was a sad day for baby Sierra.

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