Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both

Two Roads Diverged in Greece.

And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

The Road Not Taken, Yosemite Park.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,

A Grassy Road That Wanted Wear.

Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

The Road Less Traveled Near Yellowstone.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,

The Loneliest Road in America, Highway 50, Nevada.

And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken, near Moab, Utah.
liran

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