This isn’t really web related, but it’s “me” related, so I figured I’d post it… My late-father loved poetry, but wasn’t the kind you’d expect to. I think he was more fond of the inherent requirement of succinctness and brevity that come with trying to convey a message in within the limitations of stanzas and meters.
When I was young he read me a poem (much to my displeasure) by Robert Frost…
I didn’t know then, but here I am, ages and ages hence, recalling that that day and that poem would have more impact on the rest of my life than most others.
I still take the road less travelled by.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.