Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening - A Piece Inspired by Robert Frost's poem

If the title isn't clear enough, I took the poem above as inspiration for a short story. I really enjoyed writing this short piece, I hope you enjoy it too! 

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening - A Piece Inspired by Robert Frost's poem

The walk in the woods lasted longer than expected. Especially given how often I stop. Still, I don’t worry like I usually would, for it is dark, and old Mr. Johnston who owns these woods, or anyone else, won’t see me until I am long gone. Or at least I think so, it is a large wood. Mr. Johnston is a big man, he practically owns the small town but I don’t know much about him aside from that. I’ve seen him once, his round belly and the fine clothes that I once dreamed of owning, his loud voice as if everyone should hear everything he has to say.  

I imagine the big Mr. Johnston and how his life differs from mine, and for the first time in a long time, I allow myself to imagine myself in his place. Waking up in a big red silk bed, having breakfast prepared hot, and brought to me on a platter. I am not sure of everything that Mr. Johnston does, I fill in the holes with my imagination. There would be a prim but kind man to be my butler, I would attend dinner parties many evenings and when I didn’t it would be my wife and I together. I would have someone with me all the time, a companion and friend, to love and be loved.  

    Penny tugs on the reins and I stumble forward, I suppose I do have a companion. Penny, my beautiful golden mare, is clearly bothered at how slow I am walking, and that I am walking in the first place. But I don’t hop on and speed ahead at the first sign of irritation from my horse. After all, now that my mind is off “having a better life,” and back on my surroundings, I notice that it is snowing. Though it has probably been doing so for a little while, I just notice it now. It is a dark night, a very dark night. Such a dark night that I walk slow, making Penny walk slow too, and still run into branches that jut into the pathway. We continue forward and I’m able to see slight prints our feet and hooves leave in the snow. Maybe the snow will be enough to cover the tracks I am leaving now, maybe it won’t and tomorrow when the world is up and busy again someone will find them and wonder who belongs to the tracks that are heading away with none coming back.  

    But the snow does go on and on and the crisp coldness of it cuts at the bareness of my face. I think about turning back, but I can’t now. I’ve made a promise to myself to brave the woods this very night, I can’t turn back now. Part of it is lovely, really, as the moon begins to show through bare areas of the trees more and more, I am granted a better look at it all. The light fades into darkness ahead that it seems nothing can breach, but I know I will be there in a moment, and even if the moon is hidden by branches or dense trees I will be in the light again later. Part of me is glad for the snow, for a change in the scenery, so I can keep my mind focused on the present.  

There is no sound in the forest except the occasional jingle of Penny’s harness bells and the whisper of the snowflakes brushing against our cheeks. I know we must stop soon, but for now, the movement helps our bodies to stay warm.  

    I have promises to keep, 

    And miles to be before I sleep, 

    And miles to go before I sleep.

Thank you for reading!