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Feb 14, 2005 03:36

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.

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 recently splurged and got a small paperback with a bunch of Robert Frost poems in it.  I found it strange to find this one... it's rather... peaceful.  Somewhat appropriate.  And, well, I can't sleep, and seems to echo in my head at 3:30AM.

Miles to go before I sleep is dead on in fact.  Gonna work out and get it out of the way, hopefully will be tired enough afterwards to sleep an hour or so before having to get right back up and go into work.

Lottery would be nice right about now.
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