American Dream

Docks, Stars and Horseshoes

I sit on the docks looking out at the slowly setting sun.  I try and focus, just me and my music.  But around me are so many people trying to do the same thing: watch the sunset in peace.  Why can't I watch the sunset in peace?  My foot start tapping, my fingers drumming to the beat of an off beaten tune.    I do the thing everyone does when they watch a sunset, I think  I think hard.  I think softly.  I think far.  I think near.  Splashing the Hudson waters with my feet I think about where I was and where I am.  What defines me?  When am I truly happy?  For right now, I am truly happy on this dock, right here, right now, isn't that enough?

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, as 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.
Robert Frost