The poet Robert Frost died 44 years ago yesterday, at age 88. The occasion of Frost's death was headline news worldwide, and even noted by then-President Kennedy, at whose inauguration Frost recited his poem “The Gift Outright."

Times have changed, no? Is there today a living poet whose name is known to every American? Whose verse is comprehensible? Who was awarded four Pulitzer Prizes, the Congressional Gold Medal, and who served his country as a roving goodwill ambassador? Who is likely to remain a staple of bookstore shelves and schoolbook anthologies long after his death?

No, there is not. Not one name comes to mind. Indeed, one wonders whether Frost could even find a publisher today.

It is probably no accident that Frost was so well-known. He had a deep, emphatic dislike for the artsy-craftsy crowd and wanted to reach a popular audience.

From a November 5, 1913 letter to a friend he wrote, “There is one qualifying fact always to bear in mind: there is a kind of success called 'of esteem' and it butters no parsnips. It means a success with the critical few who are supposed to know. But really to arrive where I can stand on my legs as a poet and nothing else I must get outside that circle to the general reader who buys books in their thousands. I may not be able to do that. I believe in doing it — don't you doubt me there. I want to be a poet for all sorts and kinds. I could never make a merit of being caviare to the crowd the way my quasi-friend Pound does. I want to reach out, and would if it were a thing I could do by taking thought.”

Notice that last sentence: “I want to reach out, and would if it were a thing I could do by taking thought.” He really didn’t know how to reach the people but, in the pre-mass media, pre-mass manipulation days, he managed to find his audience anyway — by doing what great writers have always done: speaking plainly and truthfully.