Davis Square poet Ed Meek writes about a Robert Frost moment when he was at the famed literary retreat Breadloaf. This poem is included in his new collection of poetry Spy Pond.

Frost Country

From Breadloaf, I jog downhill towards town.

I pass Wayside: site of the cabin where Frost

spent summers writing poems. It’s a stone’s throw

from the Frost House on Frost Road. There,

a yellow bus unloads middle school kids,

happy to break from school. I imagine

the old poet’s craggy head in the clouds.

Then I see a sign for the Frost Interpretive Trail.

I weave through the parking lot past a Camry

and a mini-van. On the trail poems on plaques

intersperse with verses carved in wood.

Caught between delight and wisdom, I hesitate

at the fork for “The Road Not Taken.”

Then I realize, it’s a loop!

It doesn’t make any difference

which path you choose. You always end up

back in the parking lot

with the Camry or the min-van!

Well, I have to get back for lunch.

No stopping by woods for me.

I’m hungry and earth

is the right place for lunch.

— Ed Meek

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