Photo by Craig Michaud, from Wikimedia Commons

Homage to Frost
or
A Lucid Dream of a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these were I once did know
A lifetime, now it seems, ago
Faintly in some deep frontier
In my memory’s deepest stow

A twisting path before me sheer
Plunging down a hill, and near
A signpost on a driven stake
The words on it a shifting smear

The sky above me thick with flake
Of milky snow, as if opaque
Beneath my feet three inches deep
As further in these woods I take.

A throb, a tingle, lucid sleep
Before me the dream-woods’ wide sweep
And miles to go before I wake
And miles to go before I wake

-Alameda, 2014

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