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William L Roberts

A pond above, a pool below,

A pond above, a pool below,
And between, water flows
Down moss green cement
Then white about rounded stones.

You stroll by me,
Your hand hooked upon my shoulder,
My hand warm in your back pocket.
Sun and shade dapple your hair,
Our legs, they make us one.

You pause upon the dam
And look across the still pond.
Two leaves float on the smooth surface,
Autumn yellow, separate and still,
Serene amongst reflected clouds and sky.
A breeze nudges them against the concrete race
And over and down the green dropp they glide.

You cross the path and watch

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The arrow's green and I turn left.

The arrow's green and I turn left.
Straight, there's a strip mall,
A dealership, a gas station,
Then the road climbs a hill.
My way looks much the same.
It's the end of the day,
My way leads to you and home.

It occurs to me of a sudden
I don't know where I'd be
If I went straight at that intersection.
10 years and I've always turned,
Never seen nor wondered
What lies on up that road,
Beyond that hill.

10 years:
A clock, an extra week of vacation,
A mention at the company meeting,
A plaque whose veneer started peeling

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