Photo: the Norseman – Hyden Road looking west.
Beginnings
Roads are like wounds upon the land
convenient scars
of destiny,
lines thrust into beauty
with crests of mystery
the rumble of corrugations
and puthering dust,
a testimony to repetition
memories of destinations
deep places of the heart,
my life has been roads
macadam and dirt
some once,
some thrice,
beginnings
and endings that
are just beginnings after all,
but some I”ll travel no more.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
parallax 
Love this, you’ve put into words that which I struggled with this morning! thank you.
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Hope that passed. Thank you for sharing that.
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Interesting metaphor. Nicely done.
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Many thanks for that, very kind.
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Convenient scars of destiny! Nice!
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Thank you Ruth, very kind.
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Some I will travel no more- ditto
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poignant and powerful, the roads in and out of our internal landscape …
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Ah, you named it well, exactly so Kate 🙂
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This poem resonates and also the metaphor. Such poignancy in the last line that speaks to me on another level. Thank you again for your wonderful words.
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Ah yes, that somber last line.
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Thank you for reflecting on this.
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My pleasure.
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thank you Charles
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Many memories there – I love this one but there is a sadness about it too
>
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Yes, the grief of time passing and excluding.
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