frost's road not taken

I tell him that I love him.
He says it to me, too.
He will recite Frost's poetry for the kids.
We have one witness.

I read a book about an acorn who grows to be a huge oak
to an acorn who will one day grow to be a huge oak.
She holds the acorn but is not ready to explain it to me.
Or maybe she does, and I just want her to say something else.


Today I am grateful for a practice field, a desk, a young man and voices.