With crystalline precision, sharp passion, and a sure-footed wherewithal of the frontier of language's dominion over nature, Frost crafts a skilled, significant poetry of surprise and delight.

Would that I could / That we closed the reactors / Would that we become / A blanket of cement in the forest / That we hide there with the nettles / And watch the Eagle land again and again

I will try to live on earth without you. // I will become any object, / I don’t care what— / I will be this speeding train.