2HousePlague

I owe a debt of precedence to Robert Frost -- but it's STILL, true.




Usually, we have a choice of path
to get from where we're starting out
to where we'd like to be.
And, usually, among the choices that we see,
there is well-worn route, with lots of traffic
and a reassuring certainty
of many meetings and exchanges on the road.
They call these "streets".

But there is also, if one cares to look for it,
a "cut" of sorts, that's not quite short,
so much as lonelier and likely to contain
at least one moment when you'll stop to look about,
and finding no one else who chose to go that way,
must wonder if you might be lost or not.

They call these "alleys", and I recommend them every time.
They are not busy like the streets. Indeed,
you will quite often walk their length alone.
But alleys, I have recently observed,
exert a funny gravity of sorts,
that tugs at all of us who daily make our trips.
It's very weak but ever-present, like a voice
that always speaks, is heard by all,
but understood (for its attractiveness) by just a few.

And, for the chance to have the company,
however small the chance, however brief the joy might be,
of such a lonely traveler, on his or her own trip one day,
I am prepared to walk those Alleys by myself,
and satisfy the normalcy of loneliness
by constantly remembering
that, though my choice commit me to a sparsely-traveled way,
I've never once been lonelier than i could say.








j-

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tada!