Invoking the Muse

Robert Frost (1874–1963).  Mountain Interval.  1920.

1. 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;         5   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,         10   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.         15   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.         20

I've always loved this poem.  In my youth, I read Frost often and although his poetry has been deemed simplistic drivel by some, his descriptions of a bucolic life in New Hampshire always represented a world far from the noise, crime and filth of my native New York City of the late 60's and early 70's.  Now, many years later and living in New England, I've decided to spend more time exploring the outdoors, not just to improve my physical and mental health, but also to celebrate living in the "Ithaka" of my youth.  Although it is written for my own benefit, perhaps some others might read it and find inspiration to visit some of these locations for a pleasant immersion in some of the natural beauty New England has to offer.  Enjoy!