If I could choose which way the road would bend
I'd make a map of every ideal way,
and have no reason thenceforth to delay
my onward journey. I did not intend
such a long pause, but now I must attend
to all the beauty of this late spring day
permitting every thought to have its say,
allowing each to find its proper end.
When we begin, the choices are not clear,
we can't tell the crude path from the high road,
except that at the end we hope to find
a place to rest, and a fine new abode
for aching body and overwsrought mind.
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