Poetry provides the one permissible way of saying one thing and meaning another. People say, “Why don’t you say what you mean?” We never do that, do we, being all of us too much poets. We like to talk in parables and in hints and in indirections — whether from diffidence or some other instinct.–Robert Frost
So my poems about hunting or fishing or playing ball are not about hunting or fishing or playing ball. The twig in the stream is not where it appears to be when you reach for it. I think all of my poems, at their heart, are about relationships. I don’t know what could matter more.
*The name of the blog also comes from Frost. In Newsweek, January 30, 1956, p. 56:
In Pittsburgh, 81-year-old poet Robert Frost strolled into educational station WQED for a televised chat and poetry reading with a group of fifteen high-school students, told them “Pittsburgh is still a kind of wilderness city . . . There are places where rocks stick out… Lots of places where you can’t run a lawn mower…”, got so interested that he ignored off-camera cues and overshot his scheduled hour of air time by a full 55 minutes. Four-time Pulitzer Prize-winner Frost’s tart dismissal of ‘free’ verse: “I’d just as soon play tennis with the net down.”