“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. /… ―Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken, 1916
In a yellow wood, a pencil pusher, horning in to push pencils, comes to a fork in the road, where a Pulitzer poet is standing on the horns of a dilemma.
“And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. /…