Two poems that capture the feeling of winter perfectly.
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.
The Trouble with Snowmen
‘The trouble with snowmen,’
Said my father one year
‘They are no sooner made
than they just disappear.
I’ll build you a snowman
And I’ll build it to last
Add sand and cement
And then have it cast.
And so every winter,’
He went on to explain
‘You shall have a snowman
Be it sunshine or rain.’
And that snowman still stands
Though my father is gone
Out there in the garden
Like an unmarked gravestone.
Staring up at the house
Gross and misshapen
As if waiting for something
Bad to happen.
For as the years pass
And I grow older
When summers seem short
And winters colder.
The snowmen I envy
As I watch children play
Are the ones that are made
And then fade away.