And were an epitaph to be my story I'd have a short one ready for my own. I would have written of me on my stone: I had a lover's quarrel with the wo… - Robert Frost

You are all probably taking literature classes in which the professors teach how to get behind authors' words to determine their deeper meanings. In my case, they teach that the crow shaking snow from a hemlock tree means that evil, black, stands in contrast to the pure white good of the snow around it, like in life. They are wrong. I saw the crow, and the tree, and the snow. It was beautiful. I stopped to enjoy it. Period.

The Master Speed

No speed of wind or water rushing by
but you have speed far greater. You can climb
back up a stream of radiance to the sky,
and back through history up the stream of time.
And you were given this swiftness, not for haste
nor chiefly that you may go where you will,
but in the rush of everything to waste,
that you may have the power of standing still — off any still or moving thing you say.
Two such as you with such a master speed
From one another once you are agreed
that life is only life forevermore
together wing to wing and oar to oar.

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.