Desert Places by Robert Frost

Snow falling and night falling fast, oh fast 
In a field I looked into going past, 
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow, 
But a few weeks and stubble showing last. 

The woods around it have it–it is theirs. 
All animals are smothered in their lairs. 
I am too absent-spirited to count; 
The loneliness includes me unawares. 

 And lonely as it is that loneliness 
Will be more lonely ere it will be less– 
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow 
With no expression, nothing to express. 

They cannot scare me with their empty spaces 
Between stars–on stars where no human race is. 
I have it in me so much nearer home 
To scare myself with my own desert places.

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