The poems of Robert Frost generally start with some events that are quite common, like

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both.

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree.
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill.
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.

Then the poem remains quite calm and commonly eventful, but at ending stanzas these common events become a contemplation on our part. Robert Frost at the end makes us think differently about these events. The most important thing is that at last we (at least I) can connect our lives completely to the poem.

So, my question is: did these things really happen to him, did he really stop by woods on a snowy evening, or two roads diverged into two, or he picked up apples and he wrote a poem on it? Or is it something like that pondered like a poet to give us such fine piece of poetry?

These questions can be helpful in understanding Robert Frost, because as Charles Bukowski said "It's true I was there, even worse off than most of them but I wonder if they realize where their letter arrives".

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