Waiting for Robert Frost

He aspired to "lodge a few poems where they
will be hard to get rid of."
It would seem that he got that done.

Years before dying, he wrote, 
I would have written of me on my stone:
I had a lover's quarrel with the world.

If you find his grave, in Bennington, Vermont, 
 you'll see those words, carved in granite.


-from the poem Waiting for Robert Frost, by Danny Peart

Morning Moon

                         Morning moon, one night past full,

                         often shrouded in clouds.

                         I photograph it to be able to keep it.

                         Now it's my morning moon,

                         until I share it with you.

 D.G Peart