Living in the Woods

woods

© Jeff Horner

 

He walked and walked and walked in the amniotic moonlight. Emerging from the woods, he came upon six houses, each with a television inside, each with an air conditioner screaming in the night.

So he took the moonlight, and the fireflies, and the owlsounds, and the frognoise, and went back into the woods where it was peaceful, and went home.

Choose Something Like A Star by Robert Frost (1874-1963)

Choose Something Like A Star
BY ROBERT FROST
O Star (the fairest one in sight),
We grant your loftiness the right
To some obscurity of cloud-
It will not do to say of night,
Since dark is what brings out your light.
Some mystery becomes the proud.
But to the wholly taciturn
In your reserve is not allowed.
Say something to us we can learn
By heart and when alone repeat.
Say something! And it says, ‘I burn.’
But say with what degree of heat.
Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade.
Use Language we can comprehend.
Tell us what elements you blend.
It gives us strangely little aid,
But does tell something in the end
And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite,
Not even stooping from its sphere,
It asks a little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid.