a poem about one of my favorite poets

thinking of a poet


in a new england village
an old man wandered
the road towards me
thick crop of frosted hair

snowflakes started to fall

he shuffled along
looking here
looking there

a flight of geese
flew in a perfect V pattern
south

he watched them disappear
then walked
towards me slowly
a bit confused

hello I said
lovely morning
he looked startled
then greeted me

where is a fine man like you
traveling on a snowy day

he looked at me quizzically
I am not sure
but I will know
when I get there

we stood not saying much
then he said “I have miles
to go before I sleep”

I said that sounds familiar
he looked at me smiled and said
yes it should

he continued down the road
I quietly followed him

in about a mile he slowed
searching for something

soon he came to a
small overgrown lane
slowly he turned
disappearing into the
overgrowth

following I turned into
the lane
and came upon
an old cemetery

the old man had vanished

he had found what was beyond
the deep and snowy woods and
the end of the miles

now he could sleep
now he could sleep