Sorry to my few regulars: life has happened to me for the past week or so. Soulmate is going on a retreat this weekend (not my fault, or at least not mostly), so I will update the happenings then. Until then, and in honor of my old geezer brother who turned 50 recently, I present his favorite Robert Frost poem:
The Road Not Taken (1920)
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost (1874-1963)