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  • Sitting under the shade of a tree
    resting from working
    In the citrus orchard.
    I viewed the crossroads
    Of my future life.
    A lonely decision.
    Nineteen was the age to be brave
    To take the right path
    One path to London
    Back to square one.
    Same old dreariness
    Same old hostility
    Same old fear.
    To mediocrity
    Same family rows
    A city life drone.

    The other path
    To go to India
    Promised and planned for
    With my friend, who now had a man
    To find the answers
    In an ashram.
    Her eager plans with me forgotten.
    Do I travel alone?

    Stretching outward invitingly
    The path to Mexico
    With my love
    plunging into the unknown.
    Better a path raw and new.
    Than loosing the chance to
    Find a life
    Where I could discover
    Who I could be.
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