Game trails diverged among the dense trees,
And sorry I couldn’t stalk both
And hunt it all, I paused to freeze
Looked down past my knees
And spotted fresh sign in the undergrowth.
My mind aroused, I scanned both ahead,
To assess which to attend my aim,
Searching for what prints could be read;
Though both likely to have me misled
No trail makes the better claim,
Along both trails equally lay
Sign and sticks for my footfall
To away my quarry without delay.
Oh, what matter which is my way!
Either held promise of good haul.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Empty handed, climbing over the fence:
Game trails diverged in the bush, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that made all the difference.
This is a parody? Satire? Of ‘The Road not Taken‘ by Robert Frost, 1915. I had fun writing this as a lazy entry to the deerstalkers’ literary competition, but due to copyright uncertainty and the NZDA magazine’s commercial nature, not entered.
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