Chosen

She was curious to a fault-
wide -eyed wonderer,
with a tug on the corner
of his white garment,

asking why, why, why.

He replied with a pensive smile
pointing, not to her left,
nor her right,

but straight ahead
to the path less traveled,
where she stumbled,
unbridled, relentless

until they met again
in a perfect chorus

on the other side of that mountain.

~
~
Day 17 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

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