Robert Frost- you come to
me in a silly daydream, where the
reckless sun beats heavy on my feet.

You speak to me of the road less
travelled, and I can see it down
the winding path, where vines
may harm me along the way
Where danger may befall, and tear
my limbs- as I stand tall and carry on

Frost- you come to me in a long daydream
I see the path, I will seek it
no matter how long- no matter
how winded.


For I too, long to tell the tale
of the winded, rough, rarely trekked
road which made
all the difference.