THE ROAD
He sometimes felt that he had missed his life
By being far too busy looking for it.
Searching the distance, he often turned to find
That he had passed some milestone unaware,
And someone else was walking next to him,
First friends, then lovers, now children and a wife.
They were good company—generous, kind,
But equally bewildered to be there.
He noticed then that no one chose the way—
All seemed to drift by some collective will.
The path grew easier with each passing day,
Since it was worn and mostly sloped downhill.
The road ahead seemed hazy in the gloom.
Where was it he had meant to go, and with whom?
—Dana Gioia
Gladsome Lights 
A lovely, thoughtful, read.
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What a thought-provoking poem. Thank you, Gretchen.
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Hi- thank you. I am haunted by this poem! Your photo? That too. I would love to talk to you sometime soon—I’m up in Vermont alone for a week, again having repairs and painting done. And finding an architect! Fred had a couple of social things that are keeping him “home” til next Monday. XOX
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A deceptively pleasant warning for the young; for the old, a tragic possibility– though worse for each group would be the “Thank God I am not” view..
Excellent choice as Lent approaches.
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That’s a lovely, compelling sonnet, if a bit worrying. I suppose some people live life that way. That would be scary to me.
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