Highways always have crossroads,
Well worn thoroughfares
Traversing ribbons of life.
Speeding along our treadmills
To our uncertain destination
We encounter crossroads.
Momentary bumps in
The infinite evolving cosmos.
Blurred lines bisecting the path
Of our individual eternal flame.
Then they are gone and –
So are we.
Who is to say
Which of us is the crossroad
And which is the path?
Donald Harbour Poetry
“I hope I can be the autumn leaf, who looked at the sky and lived. And when it was time to leave, gracefully it knew life was a gift.” ~ Dodinsky
Donald Harbour Poetry 