Every Taken Road

It is very likely hearsay.
How headless chickens
can still run around the
detritus of imagined yards.

So many of my dog eared
facts are found wanting
as days roll on and on
from their ground zeroes.

Everything I say now, which
I once believed, is prefaced
with maybe or a wryly smiled
perhaps to link my words to

pillars of salt along every taken road.


Tony Noon