”But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”

"Stopping by The Woods on a Snowy Evening"

Robert Frost 1875 - 1963

I stopped to rest a spell, having walked a mile or two,
and chose to sit under the shade of a cottonwood
and watch the leaves turn shades of yellow-blue,
flip-flopping, casting wavering light spots on the ground.

The lake appeared blessed by the sun that day
and offered its thanks in rippling waves of gold
as mallards paddled on their mindless way
and willows dipped nimble fingers as they swayed.

Perched high on a bough and almost inside a cloud,
a robin whistled while happily feeding her young
and her song was cheerful, and sweet and proud
not trying to be boastful, but it was time for them to fly.

So distracted was I by the whistling and the singing,
and willows swaying, and mallards paddling –
I lost myself in the moment and beauty abounding;
it could’ve been seconds, or years – I couldn’t say.

And though I had not planned to spend the day,
I was still sitting there, under that cottonwood
not doing much but thinking, praying, being as it may
when soon the sun was gone to meet the moon.

Stubborn as I know I can be, I didn’t want to go;
not home, that empty shell in which I hardly dwell
entrapped by rigid walls and snares I so well know.
It’s here I want to be, by the cottonwood where I’m free.

Where I’m blessed to hear dawn’s whispered prayer
and birds singing loving songs to their young
and after dark, wild beasts keep close to their lair
and I can sleep, and rest, and breathe at last.

But it was sadly clear home was where I still belonged;
it seems there were things yet left for me to finish
and many amends to extend to those I’d wronged
so sleep would have to wait till all those things are done.

But from inside my house and with all that fully understood
I smile to know there’s peace by the shade of the cottonwood.

© Carmen Ruggero