He took an exit ramp that I missed,
left me at a rest stop and called once
he was out of sight with a better navigator
(no offense to me or anything),
and I found myself in uncharted territory,
alone again for the first time.
And somewhere in all of the questioning
and turning and unfolding and refolding
and tracing of the route and asking for directions —
when the map was crumpled past recognizing —
it became clear that I was more than capable
of getting myself where I needed to go.
This was written as part of National Poetry Writing Month 2021, sparked by the NaPoWriMo prompt for April 2 to write a poem inspired by Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.”