Parallels of Time

There's salvation here.
The roads are electroplated through the universe.
The one not taken may well be the one on the left.
But you can always change your mind.
The engineer at the street corner box is plaiting
their colourful lives like basket weave,
his head nodding towards the centre of the earth.
That's where this road leads. The one on the right,
light, shimmering, still bubbling
under the warm tarmac of childhood.