December 9: Storm
Kristen Lindquist
Another Robert Frost poem:
Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
I think of this poem not because of any sense of the apocalypse, but because as I type these words, pellets of snow and ice are being driven by heavy winds against my window. Outside all is dark and inhospitable. I can hear the rumble of a plow in a nearby driveway. Our first big storm of the season. Those who live in northern states would concur, I think, that "for destruction ice...would suffice."
After I'm inside,
wind drives snow across my path,
obscures my footprints.
Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
I think of this poem not because of any sense of the apocalypse, but because as I type these words, pellets of snow and ice are being driven by heavy winds against my window. Outside all is dark and inhospitable. I can hear the rumble of a plow in a nearby driveway. Our first big storm of the season. Those who live in northern states would concur, I think, that "for destruction ice...would suffice."
After I'm inside,
wind drives snow across my path,
obscures my footprints.