Roundabout

I enter,

Mindful of the choices,

First right out? Name, please?

Perhaps it’s on the second.

            If not, a destination?

Perhaps my muted travel device?

Unclear advice.

What turn is it calling?

            Is it three? No telling.

There is no four.

Around once more?

Perhaps I will not succeed. Perhaps less speed,

Will help.

The only way is out,

Back the way I came.

It seems a shame,

That my efforts seem to take me,

Not here or there, nor in or out,

Just roundabout.

Maybe I’ll come back and try tomorrow,

 or not.

(c) 2017 Roger W. Bodo