Roads
By Ruth Bidgood


No need to wonder what heron-haunted lake
lay in the other valley,
or regret the songs in the forest
I chose not to traverse.
No need to ask where other roads might have led,
since they led elsewhere;
for nowhere but this here and now
is my true destination.
The river is gentle in the soft evening,
and all the steps of my life have brought me home.
<previous poem next poem>
shoulda coulda woulda
take me there
   jenny says   you don't say   snapshot
~~home~~
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1