Miles to Go

Miles to Go

after Frost

I've been there behind a

clump

of birch,

back against the white

paper sheathed

in ice

in woods

flakes fall slowly

perfectly straight

the bells tinkled when he

jerked

those reins

I was expecting him,

knowing how his route

would bring him

knowing he was one

to pause often on the

journey

only a moment and he

was off

again

that regular rhythm

of harness bells marking

time--

two straight

identical lines

writing themselves

as he went