Over the River and Through the Woods: Never on a Sunday
I waved good-bye, but not without a catch in my throat. I can only hope that catch isn't COVID/Delta/Omnicrom. I have never worried about a scratchy throat before and am not going to be second guessing every little thing. There was so much that I have to be grateful for in the last year; so many people to be thankful for, so many wonderful moments, so much,so many. In a year that many found futile, there were some pretty good moments, some very uplifting moments from a member of my family that had been sick. So I leave last year behind, to pick up and keep running with this year.
My true love gave to me,
Nine ladies dancing,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.
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.