The Sled Dog Promise

Written in the style of the poet, Robert Frost.

The woods are deep and coming on to dark, But miles to go before he gets his rest. He hauled the sleigh, a single, hopeful spark, Across the drifts that settled on his chest.

The snow was fine and came without a sound, Filling the tracks where lesser hearts would yield. No sign of houses on the frosty ground, Just duty done across the frozen field.

He knew the hearths where gifts were yet to fall, And that the light would wait upon his pace. A simple promise mattered most of all, To finish where the cold had set its trace.

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