Sometimes I think if I had met Robert Frost (which would require me to have been alive during his lifetime), we would have been great friends. But given our mutual introversion, it’s more likely that we would have nodded at each other as we passed on a hike, each of us on our separate way back to our quiet homes.
But the things he wrote, the way he thought, it makes so much sense to me. Every time I read one of his poems, I think Finally! Someone who thinks like I do! Not that I’m putting myself on his level. Maybe one day I could write something with an echo of his style, but I don’t claim to be there. (more…)