The baby wakes
Ready to be fed.
Ever the good mother
I rescue her from her nocturnal cage.
As she eats
Toasty and nuzzled by my side
I ponder on Frost and his two roads.
Such deep thoughts for such a shallow hour.
I ask myself
Which road do I take?
The well traveled road,
The one that lets me lay here toasty and nuzzled between sleeping babe and sleeping “Babe”?
Or do I take "the road less traveled",
The literal road that asks for an RSVP of Tennis shoes and sweat?
I chose the latter.
“I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
As I emerge from the warmth of the house I strap on Orion’s Belt
And take a greedy swig from the Big Dipper.
The constellations are my running companions
As is the wind that grouchily shoves at me and grumbles,
“Go back to bed. Go back to bed.”
But there is Frost in the wind
And as I run I take the literal road less traveled by:
A new running path.
One that takes me away from my rut of a route routine.
I run in solitude as the stars slyly wink at me, silently cheering me on.
The twinkling headlights from early morning travelers
Connect in manmade constellations.
They travel a different path than I.
Past a cluster of cranky teenagers biding at the bus stop.
I cast my eyes to the ground,
Embarrassed that I’m far from the teenage dream
But soundlessly giggling with wicked premonitions of paunchy bellies and receding hair lines.
Determined to propel myself through the entire distance.
With a half and three miles behind me
And just as I enter my house
The sun peeks over the mountains
And gives me a swat on the bum as if to say
“Job well done! I’ve got this.”
Another day has hardly begun
And I am yet again accomplished as a runner.
I traveled the road less traveled by.
I gave wear where wear was wanting.
And as my day is underway
I can see
That it has made “all the difference”.