oh

and i have a post i really want to write about the fourth of july, but that will have to wait for now. it is pretty amusing. at least i think so. perceptions about America are just so interesting - and i'd love to hear yours soon. but, do, do enjoy the poetry below. it's nice.

miles to go before i sleep

It is certainly not snowing right now in Utah and I am actually not very near the woods, but the last stanza of this poem kept coming to my mind today. I've concluded that I, in fact, really like Robert Frost. I just do.

My dad used to always say the last two lines of this poem to me when I was working on a big project for school. Today is no exception - big projects, especially papers, are my intellectual bane. I'd much rather write mindless posts and eat sorbet, but whatever. My grandpa reminded me of the third to last line this morning over a bowl of cereal, (I attempted hermitage today by going to my grandparent's to work on my project, but I guess hermitage is supposed to be in solitude. I'd much rather have company though.), and I thought it fitting to my current position in life. I think it is simply a lovely poem and it has the musicality of a snowy evening, a quiet wood, and heavy thoughts.

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.

-Robert Frost