Pensive thoughts on the Frost Trail, near where the named one taught, but what?
My journal remains vacant this morning, thinking of walls, and farms, and plots of land
and squabbles within, the metaphors of plow, until a raft of sunlight hits the rock, and then I write
a poem of something lost, inspired by a quiet moment on the trail named for the poet, Robert Frost
for OpenWrite #VerseLove