3 ms·
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening A poem by Robert Frost Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me
by ak39 11y ago
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
A poem by Robert Frost
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.
-------------- End ----------
Oh how I love Robert Frost! This deeply existential and powerfully personal poem is exactly what NOT to do when you are in the throes of startup life.
Sleep! I say sleep. Get that rest and damn that horse. :-)
Edit: I took me 4 years to learn HN carriage returns! :-(