The road once travelled is no longer there;
It’s crushed, demolished, completely gone.
There’s a bridge still spanning the little creek.
But the road has succumbed – its work is done.

It served us well those many years
Thousands here traveled in bygone days,
Winding their way through the countryside;
Pastoral scenes much like Monet’s.

If it could talk ~ oh, the stories be told ~
Of those who have traveled this rustic road!
Some traveled lightly; some traveled fast
Some moseyed along; others had a huge load.

But now, that’s all in the distant past.
It’s only there in the back of one’s mind.
There’s a new road and you’d best make the change
Keep traveling along ~ or you’ll get left behind!

Karin Ristau


Mindy said...

Karin, that's a beautiful poem!

LadyFi said...

That is a great poem! Glad you enjoy the cold weather like I do.

Thanks for visiting me in Sweden today.