This is the freebie for today's Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from minor_architect.
They say the road to Faerie was lost long ago,
when the hollow hills were leveled for subdivisions
and all the holy groves were harvested for firewood,
but that simply isn't so -- the Third Road moves,
slow as a snake on a cold day,
undulating its way across the landscape.
You can see signs of its presence
on posts that make you turn your head
as you go by, wondering if you read them right --
Hidden Entrance and Men Shirking and
Road Subject to Pudding.
Even the Stray Sod has a cousin
who lies in wait near the exits
and causes unwary travelers to get lost.
So remember, if you find yourself miles from anywhere
with no idea how you got there, just pull over
and turn your jacket inside-out and put it back on,
then you'll be able to find your way home.
Of course, if you prefer, you could just keep going.