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“
Into My Own
Robert Frost 1874 (San Francisco) – 1963 (Boston)
One of my wishes is that those dark trees,(0.00 / 0 votes)
So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto the edge of doom.
I should not be withheld but that some day
into their vastness I should steal away,
Fearless of ever finding open land,
or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.
I do not see why I should e'er turn back,
Or those should not set forth upon my track
To overtake me, who should miss me here
And long to know if still I held them dear.
They would not find me changed from him they knew--
Only more sure of all I though was true.
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Citation
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"Into My Own" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 17 Jun 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/30871/into-my-own>.
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