The Yellow Fork

The prompt was to reply to a poem. My wife also used Robert Frost's poem, 'the road not taken'. We have two very different perspectives. I started with an idea that took over. I had four different little poems. I realized I was sort of using the poet's voice. If he'd lived another 50 years, what would he tweet? (This is only my interpretation)

The Road not Taken

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 kept 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.

The Yellow Fork

1:45 AM one frosty eve.
Ah, there it is again—the yellow wood.
I thought it yellow for I am in the late summer of life.
No, I recognize the now famous yellow fork.
Although it's become something of a tourist trap
Complete with 'Road Less Traveled' neon arrow sign.
Trust the general populace to sensationalize, skip to the end,
And turn the punchline into a bumpersticker.

10:00 AM the next morning.
Shouldn't post when tired or hungry.
My point: there is nothing wrong with either path.
The traveled is 'just as fair'. It was 'worn...really about the same'.
Both paths 'equally lay' in leaves untrampled.
It is the choice that 'made all the difference,' not the path.
Forward momentum and autonomy of choice was the point.

5:00 in the afternoon.
Even though it was less traveled,
I met some other travelers.
She led me to the green bower.
There was life, and growth, and fruit.
Then the road went through the black forest.
There was pain, sickness, loss, and rage.
Some angels dragged me to the blue glen.
The healing pools brought health and life abundant.

10:45 PM
Here I am camped out at the yellow fork.
I'm packed, ready, and tomorrow I leave.
I'm entering the traveled path.
I'm going up around the bend.
Who knows what Jabberwockies await?
I've slayed dragons in my time.
Now the path is clear to enter.
One need never abandon hope who dare.
Every day is 'another day' kept.
What about you, dear reader?
It's never too late to revisit some paths.
Did you want to be a rock star?
Did you want to be an accountant?
Did you want to be a rock star's accountant?
Did you want to go back and get your degree?
You could even be a professor. Well, of a community college anyway.
I can promise you one thing you will find around the bend:
Me on the sidelines with a cup of water, cheering you on.