Hey, Mister Frost, sir,
The night’s sure cold, brrr.
Can we just stop, sir?
Listen to the whir
of the trees and breeze?
To rest and sleep, please?

We’ve been walking hours
and my mind devours
everything you said
pouring through my head.
Sir, are we there yet?
Can I let go yet?

Still miles to go
True, this, I do know.
The wind in my face,
So still we keep pace.
This I know is true:
No sleep, for me or you.

Prompt: Unprompted.
Requester: Myself
Request method: N/A.
Author is Sean Prunka
Copyright 2026 Sean Prunka. All rights reserved.
Author Notes: Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” has always spoken to me. This is my rebuttal. And my acceptance.