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. |
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shoulda coulda woulda take me there jenny says you don't say snapshot ~~home~~ |