After a boat-load of people and inspiration during Black History Month, cut short on this blog by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine…
It’s time for a break. It’s time for a few long, slow, deep breaths,
And tho’ there’s no sign of snow where I am, this from Robert Frost,
“Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Evening” 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.