Choices – a poem

Choices

 

We stand at the apex of choice.

The road ahead forks.

 

The main track is clear;

More of the same,

As the trees dwindle

And the bird song dies

It becomes quiet.

 

To the side

There is a route that is verdant;

Alive with wings and rustles.

 

We have a choice.

Each decision has a cost.

 

Opher – 24.7.2019

 

 

We are trundling along on a juggernaut whose maw is gobbling up all before it and churning out plastic goods in its wake.

There is a decision to be made.