Today I learn the word hoary and find out that happenstance is only regular in the USA. And yes, it didn’t take long for my poem to address the present conundrum.
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Prompt 2: “In the world of well-known poems, maybe there’s no gem quite so hoary as Robert Frost’s ‘The Road Not Taken.’ Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about your own road not taken – about a choice of yours that has ‘made all the difference,’ and what might have happened had you made a different choice.”
The roads not taken
At the end there are always two paths, and yet you choose the one that doesn’t exist. ~Pop Design (Slovenian pop group)
There are times when the way to go, all formed, rolled out, glistening, is taken from you by war, happenstance, serendipity, right when you prepare to take the first step. But then comes a year when all the paths, streets, roads, highways and low ways unite in not making the cut, become where we won’t go today, turn into the path not taken. All but one same road. Left or right, he decides.
Here are some photos from that year which continues into this one. They were taken in April 2020 and I could easily take them again right now. Except I’m not wearing my mask on my walks any more. No need since I barely meet a human.
This is a friend. For him this is the only way. 
This is my familiar. We are still choosing. 
Into the moon. 
Into the sunset. 
Into the broken mirror. 
Where it all comes down to: Home.
For:
Manja Mexi Mexcessive (closed) 
My dog decides which way we go as well. She’s 14 so I figure she’s earned it.
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Ahh, Carol, how sweet. Mine will turn 8 next week. 🙂 We both thank you kindly.
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True. I think we all long just to get back home or find one. Every journey is about self-discovery, love and understanding.
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Thank you, Bojana. You sound reassuring and beautiful.
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A perfect description of the past year (my familiar is invisible) (K)
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Thank you so much, K. Whereas mine is impossible to oversee. 😀
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I agree with the above commenter that your post is a perfect description of the past year.
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Thank you, Lynette. It’s enough now, I’d say, of years like this.
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Oh yes, I couldn’t agree more.
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That poem is sad. I know you (and we) are tired of seeing the same thing. Nice to let your Bestia choose, but when there’s only right or left to choose, it’s still not inspiring. I’m dreaming of a September in Italy though. All your boring paths will seem fabulous to me.
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