47

THE ROAD LESS GRAVELED

Two roads diverged in a frosted wood,

One more of an extended driveway

Protected by a strong spell that stood

Ward against any stranger who should

Wander off Route 52 that day.

A sentry guarded the hot zone there,

Watching from the trees behind the edge

Of that dark spell’s sway, and in the air

He aimed a rifle at just the spot where

The trail formed a tunnel through the hedge.

He was distracted by yells and screams

From the trees around him, from the school

Where wolves had raced through woods to end the schemes

Of a man, no true wolf he, whose dark dreams

Had led so many of us to play the fool.

But the guard stayed to his lonely end,

And aimed his gun at my companion,

Sig, caught by the spell at that road’s bend.

But I had scouted a path downwind,

And that made all the difference.

Because I shoved a silver steel knife through his fucking ear canal before he was finished turning around.