Poetry – 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.

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