A Road Less Traveled By Us
After our not so delicious meal, we started home
He turned onto our usual well-worn road
Headed west where we bumped across raised railroad tracks
There at the octagon shaped stop sign turned northwest
Feeling sated and situated on the road home
Home where the old weak heart resides
Home where comfy cotton clothes are worn
Home where feet are adorned with thong sandals
It is at least forty-five minute drive
Through rural Georgia with flourishing farmland
Verdant pastures next to many neat old homeplaces
Ones we see at least three times a month
Today something different caught our old tired eyes
A golden-yellow field but also a deep, pine green
Both of these old people wondered aloud
What is that growing over there?
With each passing second, we drew closer
Our old eyes began to grasp the beauty
The grace, symmetry of this four acre field
It was sunflowers, glorious sunflowers
I told my husband to turn onto the closer county road
Go onto a road less traveled by us and many
On that country road not well-traveled
Stood sunflowers, somewhat drooped on a cloudy day
However, that is not all of the story
I don't know if I have free versed enough
Should I go on?
Maybe save the rest for another day?
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