I always thought that, too - that he was an abyss-gazer and a frightening metaphysician. From The Fear:
You understand that we have to be careful.
This is a very, very lonely place.
Joel!" She spoke as if she couldn't turn.
The swinging lantern lengthened to the ground,
It touched, it struck it, clattered and went out.
No fuzzy, avunclular, laconic Yankee he. In fact, a Californian transplant to NH via Dartmouth College. "Accessible"? I don't know: his imagery is familiar and country, but that's just imagery. From a New York Sun review of Frost's newly-published Diaries:
Frost's popular Yankee image, which he assiduously cultivated through readings, lectures, and even some of his poems, helped him to win the immense popularity that he enjoyed in his lifetime: four Pulitzer Prizes, a spot on the dais at the Kennedy Inaugural. Yet Trilling recognized that the aged poet would not be helped in his passage to posterity by this Norman Rockwell carapace, which could only seem more fake and dated with the years. That is why Trilling insisted on calling Frost, to his face, "a terrifying poet." Really, he had less in common with Longfellow than with Sophocles, "who made plain ... the terrible things of human life."
Trilling's remarks came in for what seems now like a surprising amount of criticism. When the New York Times reported on the speech, affronted readers wrote to suggest that Trilling should be taken "to the woodshed," while Frost consoled himself with "a nice plate of buckwheat pancakes and Vermont maple syrup." This anxious resort to the very clichés of Americana, which Trilling had decried, only proved how right he was. It was vital, for Frost's longterm artistic reputation, to separate the maple syrup from the poetry.
