What the poem means to me: it brings the colours of bitter cold mornings and evenings to mind, the bite of sub-Antarctic winds along the Old Man range in Central Otago. It evokes musical fragments, which haunt, like Frost's phrases. And, most of all, it makes me wonder how these truths can best be said, best narrated. Frost was no sentimentalist, and even less theologically motivated. Nature, in his estimate, was not kind but cruel. And the nature of the human mind and indeed the human heart, morally and emotionally ambiguous. Yet, when all is said and done, discussed and weighed, there will emerge "roughly zones whose laws must be obeyed".
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