A road once graded for cars,
With stones embedded in hard earth,
Leads westward toward the blue hills,
And eastward still deeper into the woods.
Family-sized apple orchards and the spills
Of heavy stone foundations give proof
That people once lived in this wild country.
At the bottom of a ravine I can see the roof
Of an abandoned house. Where did I make
The mistake that has brought me here,
to this fix? What way should I take,
to escape? Both seem equally fraught.
At one time people traveled this road
And met other people, but I seem caught,
Far from everyone, with nowhere to go.