OK, I have to say something. But first a qualifier: I love Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. Beautiful poem. The cadence, the imagery, the je ne sais quoi. But frankly, Robert Frost has "been done", if you will. At this point I think we can safely give some other poets their due without risking Frost's place in the canon.
Standing out in the snow the other morning, I was reminded of the poetry of Ted Kooser, an Ames native enjoying a well-earned surge in popularity these days, having twice been appointed U.S. Poet Laureate, and winning a Pulitzer last year.
I love his poetry because it exemplifies everything I actually like about the Midwest: the lack of pretension, the deliberate pace, the landscape that makes you to look closely to enjoy its beauty. Anyway, here is the poem I was thinking of the other day, from his Pulitzer-winning collection Delights and Shadows:
A Winter Morning
A farmhouse window far back from the highway
speaks to the darkness in a small, sure voice.
Against this stillness, only a kettle's whisper,
and against the starry cold, one small blue ring of flame.
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