Desert Places

Robert FrostRobert Frost26 Mar 1874 – 29 Jan 1963

1 min read · 12.4K reads

Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.The woods around it have it—it is theirs.
All animals are smothered in their lairs.
I am too absent-spirited to count;
The loneliness includes me unawares.And lonely as it is, that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less—
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow
With no expression, nothing to express.They cannot scare me with their empty spaces
Between stars—on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places.
Robert Frost
About the poet

Robert Frost

Robert Lee Frost was an American poet. His work was initially published in England before it was published in the United States.

View profile & all 58 Poems / Stories

More Poetry & Stories You May Like