Narrowing soon after leaving tar then becoming, became road of resolute hardpressed sand
And soon upon a gentle curve’s way
we slowed before three boulders
immense, near identical in appearance.
There seemingly placed aeons ago by
men unknown,
invisible to eye, or
thought, of nothing left
but this tripartite
to mutual conforming its granite hardpressed
on loose sand in shade
exemplifying a cool inevitability,
the cool redundancy of the immovable
and immobility of perpetuity’s petrified gravity. A histrionics chilled, voiceless anonymity
like monument’s archaic architect
ghosts dead among mute stones
Consigned by begging promise conjoined
at hip like spinstergrip search for gray sameness in parade.
Forcing semiappropriate
onto leftward digression
over narrow footpath through weedy woods of woe.
The only way taken where everyone must go,
a way of pain and slew of Cain a nakedness contained
by solemn deft wit with buggy shush of knee high grass,
eventual hiddenwet muck on boots as trod
we did across unbeaten path
indiscernably seen as having anything resembling precedent at all.
Soon we gleaned the original road was lost from view or purpose,
that our digressive diversions had won us glories of lostness,
treasures of consequence
so it seemed blanket appropriate crass foresight fell bereft of meaning,
comparing itself to result unintended by ancient boulder rollers anonymous
who unwittingly contrived to save us from the perils of vehicular spoil and dangers of straightline roadfill.
A stupefying absence of true obstacle for which all can, must feel grateful.

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