Robert Frost and his Influences on Kay Ryan

Robert Frost, born in San Francisco in 1874 was an inspiration for Ryan Kay. Contrary to Kay, he spent his childhood in Lawrence, Massachusetts and was greatly influenced by the nature and beauty of the east coast. In 1895 he married Elinor  White. The couple moved to England after their farm in New Hampshire had failed. There her was influenced by Edward Thomas, Rupert Brooke, and Robert Graves. He also met Ezra Pound who promoted and published his work. His first two publications were A Boy's Will and North of Boston. By the time he returned to America in 1915, he had garnered the respect of a nation. His poetry was what Ryan Kay grew up reading, and his style and tone has a clear resemblance to Kay's poetry. 

October by Robert Frost

O hushed October morning mild, 
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; 
To-morrow's wind, if it be wild, 
Should waste them all. 
The crows above the forest call;         
To-morrow they may form and go. 
O hushed October morning mild, 
Begin the hours of this day slow, 
Make the day seem to us less brief. 
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,         
Beguile us in the way you know; 
Release one leaf at break of day; 
At noon release another leaf; 
One from our trees, one far away; 
Retard the sun with gentle mist;         
Enchant the land with amethyst. 
Slow, slow! 
For the grapes' sake, if they were all, 
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost, 
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—         
For the grapes' sake along the wall.

This poem clearly demonstrates Frost's use of imagery and nature above all else. This is slightly different from Kay's poetry in that is very detail specific and is more wordy. The most significant difference is his overt love of nature, and it is  routinely the focus of his poems, rather than a means to explain or express a point.  

The same can be said for this next poem, a personal favorite of mine as it is. 

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

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.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

A key similarity between Frost's poetry and that of Ryan's is that neither of them really ever express a point in their poems, even if there is one. The reader must infer and look closely to grasp the meaning and to understand the poet's intent, but their poems also leave room for the reader to turn the meaning into something all their own.