When you were younger you read that Robert Frost poem like everyone else in school and spent years dreaming of that point in your life where two paths finally diverge. All those years you spent trudging down that pin-straight road, fretful for the future, trying not to detour into the thick woods like the thickheaded people who think they know better.
You keep your eyes forward and back straight, plodding along as more and more people fall by the wayside or disappear into the forest, and you can feel it when you’re finally alone, when there’s nothing but you and the road, and the choice you have to make.
What happens if you get to the crossing and feel like your life is already more than enough? What happens if you reach that fork in the road and you don’t have any good reasons to keep choosing? You can’t stay there, at the this junction.
You always have to keep choosing.
Eventually, everything falls apart and you will be powerless and alone. That man you love can’t be trusted, he could turn on you at any moment, again. It doesn’t matter if the freckles on your skin are mirror images, it doesn’t matter if his heart feels like yours. You’ve arrived. It’s time to let it rest.
Go West, you tell yourself, like you always have with your dreams of California and palm trees and sun. Take the left route and don’t look back. You must make your choice and run.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: detour, more than enough, and freckles.
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