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)
