Robert Frost: “The Road Not Taken”
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.
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "K" is for "Keystone")
When you try, really try…
When you do your best…
When you make a decision based on the best evidence available, and everyone thinks it was a poor decision and you are therefore roundly condemned for it – well, that’s pretty hard to take.
Don’t tell me it was an important occasion. I knew that. A get-together of the entire clan, all of ‘em, something that hadn’t happened for years. And they were all waiting for me.
I was on my way, nonchalant, speeding along in my old jalopy, known affectionately to members of my family as “The Wheezer” because of the odd wheezing noise it makes when I shift from first to second gear (so I try not to do that too often).
I was carrying important cargo. It was Grandpa Pittinger’s birthday and, as I said, the whole famdamily was in attendance. Grandma Pittinger had ordered a special cake. It had cost a fortune and I had been commandeered to go into the Big City to pick it up.
It was huge (there are a lot of relatives) and on the way back it was sitting up front on the passenger’s seat, enjoying the view.
I had ten miles or so to go when I ran into a metaphorical brick wall. I pulled up and stopped (the brakes working rather well for a change).
Truth is, I didn’t know these roads all that well. It was never a problem because all I had to do was wait till I saw the signpost “Keystone Road” and then turn on it to take me to the Pittingers. But some joker had uprooted the post and tossed it into the bushes. So I uttered an earthy remark because I was now faced with a road that had suddenly become a couple of roads. Question: which was Keystone Road?
I analyzed the situation. One road looked as though it had more traffic on it, which would seem to mean it probably went to the next town. So, on purpose, I took the other one.
Well, I guessed wrong. After grotesquely wandering all over creation, I finally arrived with the cake, over an hour late, everyone glaring at me. I explained about the missing signpost and that I had taken the road less traveled by.
Surely they should have seen it was not my fault, but they kept up with the glaring thing throughout the whole birthday celebration.
As for the weekly Berownial quiz, the above bit of whimsical fiction might remind you of one of our famous poets. What’s his name?
(Also submitted to Sunday Scribblings)