Two roads there were

In those woods once yellowed

By summer rains, and many fellows

Who tread the paths,

That are now no where.

Once they wore about the same

Then many moons, and people changed.

Grass and ivy took their time, and rearranged;

By dawn and dusk, never aided by flame,

But still they showed no sign of strain.

More moons passed still,

Somewhere man’s regrets now faded,

The yellowed wood, now long degraded,

Held no bird song, no sparrow’s trill.

No steps remembered or choices felt,

No beast now knows us, who once walked this hill.