On one hand, I read Robert Frost many years ago. Perhaps I remember it all. I could tell you that say this is all just refreshing my memory.
Or perhaps I don’t remember a thing of it, other than the vague idea of The Road Not Taken and nothing more.
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.
And perhaps it doesn’t matter which road I took, I could always tell you I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.
It’s an interesting poem with about the opposite message most people think it has and probably the best of the bunch. I like a number of the others as well though.
I WONDER about the trees.
For the most part, I strongly prefer poems with a structure cadence and rhyming patterns. But some of the free form stuff works for me as well.
White as the only race she ever knew.
Black she had scarcely seen, and yellow never.
But how could they be made so very unlike
By the same hand working in the same stuff?
For, dear me, why abandon a belief
Merely because it ceases to be true.
Cling to it long enough, and not a doubt
It will turn true again, for so it goes.
Most of the change we think we see in life.
Is due to truths being in and out of favor.
Worth reading at least once, I’d say.