Untitled* Poem by Andy Brookes

road curving left it is the one not taken.
so question is did we take the correct one?
frosty slicked hard and muddy
Robert knew, yes he did, yet life seems linear.

I watched you yesterday in the garden
among the dead and dying things
gathering brown dry brittle leaves of Winter`s harvest
you shone in the cold bitter air, tart tannin tasting.

cheeks burned red with cold,
your jolly hat enlivening the scene
bright hued against encapsulating grey walls.
you looked up just then, smiling and waved,
to dissolve in mist, leaving me with only an after image.

I wonder, the road curving to the left, the one not taken
was the right one, but then you knew that, didn't you?
leaving me to walk the rest alone.