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The Longing Of Woods

In walking alone in the woods, at dark
I found this universe of depth
Of snowy owls rousing themselves
From this still slumber on an outstretched bough
Oh! the night and all red foxes
Have scattered around in girl-like shrills
The woods at night
Seem full and flowing with life and sleep
With hisses and howls
And Smokey plumes of silence and sleep
Though all the ones that fill it’s arms
Have told me it was longing still
What more can woods want?
Other than what it has-
This magnitude of the prey and hunter
So complete with candid acceptance
Be what will be
What more do the woods want?
I’ve asked them all, the woodpeckers, too
Who’ve told of witnessing this pining up near
And never have gotten just why
And if they couldn’t know- if ever, could I?
For now all I see is barren and brimming
Oh! The dead of night and the longing of woods

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Welcome back... I hope you'd stick a bit longer with us.
I've never been to a real forest, so always appreciate any poem with rich details like this one
The last few lines however perplexed me a bit, might be only me though and I was left I wondering if that was intended as the poet himself has questions unanswered too.


Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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that the longing of the woods, was meant to be an emotion that was generated by being in the dark and lonely woods filled with predators. Wondering what it was like to live there in the night. ~ Geez.

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