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This poem is taken from PN Review 259, Volume 47 Number 5, May - June 2021.

From Two Ways Paul Fournel
The Fork

The road tempted me, and now I am lost.
I lost contact with my legs long ago.
I see the fork ahead leading elsewhere
Or instead leading back here. I am lost.

Here is the forest        
And the night so green        
The great pinewoods and        
The frisson the eye        
Reluctant to look        
At more than the bend.        
Perhaps a few wolves        
In the screech of brakes
There the meadow’s slope
And the bright green stream
The blue horizon
The road and the wind.
A ruffled adder.
No doubt a few cows
Some trees a hamlet.
...


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