I shall risk considering this a walk poem in that the speaker is on a journey somewhere, albeit that the speaker does pause on his journey. It might be considered a walk poem in that it does at least two things: 1) it talks about what the speaker sees on his way home. 2) it talks about what the speaker (and the speaker's horse) is thinking while on the journey.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
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.