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Stopped Cold (Ode) by coldiron
Whose woods are these? I may be lost Tracing footsteps of Robert Frost. Did he stride here or over there? He must have damn well stopped somewhere! Dour colossus of the page Granted a serene old age, But not for me, poor bitter serf Gleaning nuggets from his turf.

Up the ladder: Paddling West
Down the ladder: night owl (5)

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Arithmetic Mean: 9.0
Weighted score: 5.1897035
Overall Rank: 4738
Posted: February 5, 2007 10:32 AM PST; Last modified: February 5, 2007 10:32 AM PST
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Comments:
[8] Dovina @ 75.82.86.162 | 6-Feb-07/11:22 AM | Reply
You can, and may have, walked his paths: http://travel.sulekha.com/hampshire/sites.aspx

He’s one of the few poets who never fool around, never stick in a silly piece out of boredom, and almost always say at least two worthwhile truths in every line. His writing is dark, or dour as you say, if you wish to see it darkly, or not see the light. I hope only to approach his weight and buoyancy, two forces acting oppositely, where a small nudge makes all the difference.

Good reflection.
[n/a] Dental Panic @ 84.27.81.27 | 9-Feb-07/3:11 AM | Reply
This is very good. Reminded me of the time I was in Chios, made a trip to sit on Homer’s stone. Great view there (closed my eyes, tried to hear some sirens singing - only nagging kids, a mother yelling. The sea).
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