According to the Weather Channel.com it is 92 degrees. This is right now at 6:35 in the evening. So, to counterbalance this hot weather, I am going to post a nice, cool, poem:
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
by Robert Lee Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it's queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Saturday, June 25, 2005
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