About

It's when I'm weary of considerations, 
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open. 
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over. 
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: 
I don't know where it's likely to go better.

THE ARTIST: Michele Biehler-Bass
THE POETRY: Robert Frost