[ Clara's eyes light up and she grins. She remembers thinking once while watching something that she was pretty sure all women were required at one point to memorize poetry. Why, she can only guess, probably to keep gathering from being dull, she isn't sure. But she'd always thought it was an interesting talent, and she loves it. ]

Brilliant. I love teaching that one around the beginning of autumn, it fits with the season. It's always easiest to kick start a semester of poetry with something that keeps them on the edge of their seats. Learned my lesson, never start with the "boring" first.

[ She uses air quotes, because never would she find any of what she teaches boring. ]

You won't know this one quite yet, Frost didn't gain traction until the later part of your decade, but this one seems appropriate for now. [ She gives it a moment, not shy at all, but unsure about reciting the whole thing. That thought doesn't stop her, of course. ]

Whose woods are these 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. [ She recites the poem in its entirety; it was made into a song she had to sing once in school choir for a holiday program, though she hardly remembers how the tune went. Still, it helped her remember the words. ]