Walking in Woods on a Cold, Brisk Morning

Thoughts on revisiting old stomping grounds.

Hole in the Wall Panorama

Walking in Woods on a Cold, Brisk Morning

[stolen from Robert Frost]

What woods these are I think I know –

I used to run them long ago

when I was young and had no fear

of roaring rain or muffled snow.

The Pond in Panorama

But now I find these woods are queer

with nothing that’s familiar near

between my house and power line

on the coldest morning of the year.

The Red Shale Pit

I give my head a little shake;

I know there must be some mistake:

there is no way that I am lost;

I ran these woods when not awake.

Old Sledding Hill

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

and this hill is pretty steep;

I wish that I had brought a jeep

to get me home so I can sleep.

Along a Stone Wall

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