The Many Traveled Road

by Quinn Vokes

Slowly I tread
The Many Traveled Road,
with my head bent down
in shameful submission,
and my hair
covering my eyes.
My tired hands are shoved deep in my pockets
to avoid the many stares received.
I will not look up to see what I am not.

Remember that beautiful Michigan summer?
We could look at each other then.
A smile creeps
on this saddened face,
making me look much too old
to be my mother’s daughter.
The wind softly blows, gently wiping
it away with many Autumn leaves
into a whirlwind of color.
Thank god for that.
I don’t want to wear my heart
on my sleeve.
The sunset ahead fills me with resolve.
I cannot look up to see what I am not.

They say
walking is good for the soul.
A good way to release.
Letting things go was never my strong point.
There’s a crack in the
pavement ahead.
An innocent mother perished
My over imaginative mind
plays the scene for the rest
of me:
I can see the poor son crying
at her deathbed.
He’ll probably never forgive himself.

Emitting a sigh,
I am of the opinion
that I think too much.

Slowly turning,
still avoiding any (and all) gazes,
I walk back
the way I came.
Tomorrow I will take the same path,
as I have done many times before.

Where is my silver lining to save me
from this dark cloud?
I have already died too many deaths
that were not mine.


Posted on 08/07/2003
Copyright © 2021 Quinn Vokes

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Ken Harnisch on 08/10/03 at 07:29 AM

As a walker alone into too many wildernesses, i know how this feels...great poem Quinn..and I agree with Kim. Would like to see more from you

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