Choices instantly wretched that I could not accept both
And much time I took, as I knelt
Overlooking the possibilities of the journey
To which my ball could sway;
Eyeing the path of the easiest pouch
To where the landing was moments away,
Then contemplating the other, as just as sure,
And having perhaps the better trail,
Because it was bare and had no blur;
Though as for that rolling there
Had chosen them just about the same,
And both that evening equally sat
On green felt two paths wanting a wander.
Oh, I favored the easiest that day!
Yet, knowing how play leads on to play,
I wondered if the other path would again come my way.
I mournfully tell this with a cry
And thoughts of time standing still,
Somehow my chosen path
Did not choose I, and forced to ask, why?
I took the one most chosen,
Easiest on the eye,
And that pocket taught me,
It's not the most traveled path that the ball must enter.
