OFF THE BEATEN PRIMROSE PATH

I beat down the dirt.

I wear down a trail,

Boldly going where no one dare to set foot before me

Wandering wherever my feet take me.

I step on twigs on the way

Snap, snap, snap.

Each one, a misconception

Of those who tried to point me on the "right path".

I prefer walking off the beaten primrose path.

I'm not a follower,

Not some quailing desert flower

Whose fragile petals blow away on the wind.

My path, make no mistake,

Is strewn with thorns, scratches, and scrapes,

But I wouldn't trounce down any other path

Than my own.

(1998)

(rev. 8-27-2004)