I let my mind wander
Until I lost myself in this great big world,
On a road I could not pass.
For Robert Frost it was the road less traveled by
That made all the difference.
While nearby Walt Whitman tumble through Leaves of Grass.
With bitten nails, a savage mane and eyes living beyond my
body-
I see
Langston Hughes lingers on A Dream Deferred
As Shirley Jackson shares The Lottery.
Not far off I see a Phenomenal Woman hovering high above an
already lofty tree.
And Still I Rise
mocks Dr. Angelou peering down at little old me.
In the midst of my lethargy I can hear Uncle Tom’s Children
Leading Richard Wright by the hand.
To a small horse drawn carriage waiting to my left,
Where Emily Dickinson dally with death.
I quickly move along up a winding road,
Armed with nothing more than a pen.
And in my haste I stumble across Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man.
And it is through his eyes that I see a dead end.
Others might see a finish line.
I’ve found out more about life being lost,
Because experience is such a willing guide.
Poem by Lena Williamson
Lena Land Books
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