The Radical Road

It was a radical road I walked
and a radical road I walked alone
'til I reached the top of that radical road
where I could look out over
the greatest city
with the greatest people,
well that’s what they had me believe.
Until, one day I walked away
and never walked
another radical road again.
Or maybe I did
but none as radical
as the one I left behind.

Mary Dawson


If you have any comments on this poem, Mary Dawson  would be pleased to hear from you.