I finally finished my March Poetry Postcard. Actually, I finished it in March, then my iron puked on it, and I had to do it again. Fortunately, the hardest work of the postcard was carving the stamp.

Robert Frost was born in March, so this card celebrates one of my favorite poems of all time, "Birches." It begins, "When I see birches bend from left to right/ across the line of straighter darker trees,/ I like to think some boys been swinging them,/ but swinging doesn't bend them down to stay/ as ice storms do."

The image is inspired by that portion of the poem, but I've used another favorite section for the words. Frost says, "I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree./ And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk/ Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more./But dipped its top and set me down again./ That would be good both going and coming back."

I love Frost's everyday language and his formal structure, and this is the poem I say to myself more often than any other, except perhaps the Prologue to The Canterbury Tales.

"Earth's the right place for love./ I don't know where it's likely to go any better."

Thank you Robert Frost. Happy Belated Birthday.