by Robert Frost
(2) Sea Level
Even if we’re not quite sure who continues to destroy the wall, and even if we don’t know specifically what our speaker wants, we have a pretty good fix on what is going down in this poem: There’s a wall that either needs mending, or tearing down. What’s so great about this poem is that we can simply walk into it, and revel in the mysterious quietness that inhabits the dark woods. The language makes us feel as if we’re staring into a crystal clear creek.