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  • Stopping By DC On November Night
    Addison (Robert Frost)
    7 Nov 2004

    Whose house this is I think I know.
    Its gates should be in Texas though;
    He will not see me stopping here
    To watch them reap the seeds they sew.
    My little car must think me queer
    To stop with lies and death so near
    Between the right and the growing fear
    The darkest evening of the year.
    I give my heavy head a shake
    And wonder if there is some mistake.
    The only other sound's the weep
    Of soldiers lost and sanity’s wake.
    The night is lonely, dark and deep.
    But I have hope to keep,
    And miles to go before I sleep,
    And miles to go before I sleep

    written after the results of the 2004 election