A Conversation in a Forest with Robert Frost on a Snowy Evening

by Phillip Clement
7th December 2011

Whose woods these are

it doesn’t matter now

there was indeed a forest here

a whole ecosystem

with badgers and ferns

But they are all long gone from here

and what was once his house in a village

perhaps over there

is now right here

where the willow used to stand

The woods were lovely

dark

and deep

you could once loose yourself in them

need to shake a bell

or start a hue and cry

Now in place of the sweet cacophony

that could have been dawn song

or any number of natural

and nostalgic things

are ringtones

and car alarms

The only museums now

for plants and trees

are libraries

and no one goes there either.

Comments

Good things for forests.

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Jonathan
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Jonathan Engstrand
11/09/2022

Thank you Susan, it's nice to hear that as I have recently submitted this poem as part of my portfolio. I'm glad that someone likes it; I only hope my lecturer is as full of praise as yourself.

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Phillip
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Phillip Clement
10/12/2011

Hi Philip, I found the poem highly appealing. The significance of loss created a deep feeling and the effect within me proved both whimsical and wistful by turns. I loved the way you worked your rhythm.

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Susan
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Susan Abraham
09/12/2011