The Road Not Taken (Poetry)

I know I glimpsed its green-hedged opening -
the way perspective lures the eye to scan,
take in the distance, map it, remembering
exactly how the shadows fell that day
I passed and saw the flickering of leaves,
the tented trees, deep verges beckoning.

But I journeyed on and down some long, hard years,
not quite recalling where that turning was I missed -
that lane which led some other place than here -
now alternate routes are closed or lost to sight
and Life's too-busy maze has shut me out.

It haunts me still - that road I didn't take -
and sometimes on the very edge of sleep,
I turn a corner, see the signpost white,
unlettered for the future, and my feet
lead another me - I half-believe
is someone else - a ghost - beneath the trees.