When Robert talked of paths I don’t think he saw mine
I’ve taken his two and cubed it, added a detour sign
I sit at the mileage marker, stare at optional ends
But know I will never predict where each timely bends
I wear jaded eternity on a string about my neck
Cling to destination unjaded by unending trek
Hoping the proximity will give my heart direction
I clutch forever, take a breath of hesitation
The Frosty morning knows no way is evil
Each alley I could take distinguished but equal
Scared to disturb treading undergrowth
I wonder which leaves will differ me the most
~DaLe 12/28/08
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