Robert Frost is special. Whenever I read a poem that I like by another poet, I always want to share it, which explains this poem-a-week thing. Whenever I read a poem that I like by Robert Frost, I always feel that I should keep it to myself. It isn't that I am selfish, it is just that I get the feeling that no one but I could really savor it the way it should be savored.

This is, of course, dumb. Frost is one of America's most beloved poets, the winner of four Pulitzer Prizes. His poetry is loved by millions of people worldwide. Nevertheless, his poetry always strikes me as something that should be enjoyed quietly and alone, even jealously.

As often happens with a poet I like, I had trouble choosing just one poem by Frost. But this didn't bother me this time because I know that others, much better versed in poetry than I, have also had this problem. Check out any good anthology of American poetry and I think you will find that few if any of the poets whose works are presented in the volume had as many of their poems included as Robert Frost. The compilers couldn't select just two or three of Frost's poems, much less just one.

The nice thing about Frost is that I didn't have to choose among those of his poems with which everyone is familiar, poems such as "Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening," "The Road Not Taken," "Mending Wall," "West-Running Brook," and "Birches." Frost wrote so many wonderful verses that I have many favorites that are not among those that are always included in the anthologies. Such a poem is "Two Look at Two." The other choice was "The Death of the Hired Man," a great favorite of mine. But it is too long for this format. Read it sometime if you have never read it. Or read it again if you haven't read it for a long time. But don't tell anyone. They probably wouldn't appreciate it the way you would.