This is the story of the little poem that could. A tenacious little bugger.
A week ago I put “In the Middle of the Road” by Carlos Drummon de Andrade in the middle of the road:
With a stone to hold it in place:
Two days later I walked back along the road and found the poem in a ditch near where I had originally placed it. So I put “In the Middle of the Road” back in the middle of the road, this time with no stone.
A few days after that, before the big storms hit the midwest, I traced my path and found the poem again, off to the side of the road:
I moved it further down the road:
(My dog Jane enjoys showing her disdain for poetry.)
High winds and rain have come since then, but I’ll walk down the road again tomorrow and see if I can find my old friend.