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Thoughts while Reading Robert Frost
on New Year's Day
in Idaho

 
   


  
by Leslie Monsour

 

     

 

 

                      

        

             

   

                      

 

 


 

  



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Thoughts while Reading Robert Frost on New Year's Day in Idaho



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Ezra Pound was born in Hailey; Ernest Hemingway died in Ketchum. Frost was a true friend to both.

In Hailey, north of Bellevue's crooked belfry,
A child with cantos waking in his head
Left ponderous snowtracks as he tugged his sled.
Then, as a man, his friendships kept him jail-free
In exile with his famed non-metric pound
Of hate.  While in the state where he was born,
Things went awry in earnest one lead dawn,
The Big Wood's splashroar drowning every sound,

Until the shot, which friends and family said
Was accidental, shook the granite hearth's
Gray vault, untouched yet by the sun's first ray.
I looked up from the pages I'd just read,
And frost had swung the birches low to earth's
Right place for love and all that cannot stay.

  
Split Personality by Leslie Monsour

                    

 

 

        

 

 

 

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