The Red Wheelbarrow
Published on Dec 24, 2015
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glazed with rain water
beside the white chickens.
Photo by My Side of the Mountain
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.
Photo by Dunnock_D
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.
Photo by Dunnock_D
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.
Photo by Dunnock_D
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.
Photo by Dunnock_D
