I think I know who owns these woods.
He lives in town.
He would not like it for me to pause here
To watch the snow fall.
My horse knows it is odd
To stop here on a whim.
He would like to get home.
Hey! These woods go far!
There is not a soul here but me!
And the light is dim, at best!
I have said that I will do things.
It will take me some time to get there.
Good grief! I still have a long way to go.
I should move on.