He died a couple of years before I was born, but it seemed like Robert Frost was alive and talking to me when I was introduced to him in elementary school. There were a few other poets that were offered to us youngsters, but Frost was the one I latched onto. Such a formal name, not Bob, but Robert. His last name struck me because it evoked the winter season that is the background of many of his poems. His poems were easy to read, but understanding them was more difficult. I liked the layers and added complexities, to a point. When a teacher discussed how good fences made good neighbors, I saw the want to be left alone. I could also understand how they were a barrier to knowing the folks next door. But doors and gates could be opened as needed. There were several ways to think about it. From pondering the end of the world to contemplating an abandoned cord of wood he finds during a walk in the woods, he seemed to find meaning or symbolism in everything he observed and wrote down. When he pauses his horse in the middle of the woods on a snowy night you are there watching with them, feeling the snow drift down on your shoulders and hearing it fall to the ground around you. Robert Frost (1874 – 1963) received four Pulitzer Prizes for his work and remains one of the premier poets of all time. If you haven’t read him in a while, or not at all, this site is a good place to start.