Well, since I'm such a big fan of poetry, I decided to showcase one of my favorites every week. This week's feature is a [Robert] Frost poem titled "Reluctance". Nex week's will be, again by Robert Frost, "The Tuft of Flowers". Enjoy.

Please don't stop reading the moment you see the stanzas talk about woods and leaves and stuff... The last stanza is amazing. It would be better that you read that one than none of it, although I will appreciate it if you read the whole thing.

Reluctance

Out through the fields and the woods
And over the walls I have wended;
I have climbed the hills of view
And looked at the world, and descended;
I have come by the highway home
And, lo, it's ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,
Save those that the oak is keeping
To ravel them one by one
And let them go scraping and creeping
Out over the crusted snow,
When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No longer blown hither and thither;
The last one aster is gone;
The flowers of the witch-hazel wither,
The heart is still aching to seek,
But the fleet question "Wither?"

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less of a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of love or a season?