The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

road

I spent a few hours traveling on the highway today and passed many a little town.  I found myself wondering what could be discovered in them if I had the time for a quick detour:  a specialty shop or clothing boutique or a family deli or even a little bookstore… the kind that are so hard to find these days.  And every once in awhile, I passed a solitary road that seemed to come out of nowhere and then just fade into the distance.   Wouldn’t it be fun to see where it led?  I wish I had the time to find out, but there’s always the trip back!

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