Furze and Bracken
The furze and bracken
is browned and a little battered.
The Michaelmas daisies
and brambles shine in the September sun.
A Painted Lady slowly
opens and closes its wings.
Every moment
is a fork in the road
and every fork
is always the same,
the choice between right and wrong.
And wrong is always
arrogating to oneself
things which do not belong.
And right
is always
following the Light.
poem by Brian Taylor
Added by Poetry Lover
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