Poem of the Woods

Hemp and jute, ink, wood pieces, raw edges, with Robert Frost poems from the same vintage book pressed into the surface. Frost stops by woods on a snowy evening and finds them lovely, dark and deep, and goes on anyway because he has promises to keep. That hesitation is the subject here. The woods are built in layers you cannot see to the bottom of, and the printed lines surface and sink inside them, held in the fiber the way a thought is held just before you decide to leave.