I sometimes think it does not matter which road we choose, although life is
full of choices, and the making of them seems to shape our way forward. I
like to think what is more relevant is the way we choose to travel, how we
view what we pass, what we gather and what we leave behind and ultimately
all journeys end in the same place. Which all sound dreadfully avuncular.
I think you have the makings of a fine poem and not too far away at that. I
wonder about the opening line. Arthur.
----- Original Message -----
From: "Sue Scalf" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Sunday, January 04, 2004 5:58 PM
Subject: wip Divergence


> Divergence
>
> I am living in a cliche,
> here at the end of this road
> the one that forks
> and goes on
> bordered by a steep cliff.
> If I take the correct path
> something is bound to happen.
> Perhaps I can follow the trail
> and see where it leads or perhaps
> stopping here is all.
> Or if I choose not to take
> that worn trail, well,
> there is always the cliff.
> But who wants to choose that?
> No.  I can accept.  What I can't do
> is let go.  For I know
> what it is to hang from the cliff
> with bloodless fingers,
> lungs longing for air.
> I stand here
> becalmed, numb,
> and around me the leaves
> fall, build in mounds,
> and the wind speaks
> over and over again
> accept accept accept.
> As if there were a choice,
> as if there were two roads,
> old Frost.  We have to do
> what we have to do;
> and it makes no difference
> at all.
>
> Sue Scalf