The Road Not Taken

I first posted this in the Poetry for a Lazy Saturday Morning thread, but it really deserves its own post. My comments are below the poem.



The Road Not Taken

by Robert Frost

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.



I posted this one for two reasons:

1. It's my favorite poem of all time, and really speaks to me about where I've been, where I am, and where I'm going. I'm ALWAYS on the the road "less traveled by".

2. Kate read it out loud to me last night. Kate knows how to do it. Not all sing-song like a nursery rhyme. But deep and soft, descending into a whisper from the heart. And as she read the last line, she leaned over ever so gently, and kissed me right at the last word.

If that doesn't give you goose pimples, you're a toaster.