The Reflections Of Franklin As He Hid With A Fox On A Hilltop, WatchIng The Valley Of Foreboding

As I trudged across the empty savannah
I kept passing signposts, inscribed:
Still 9 Miles To Foreboding
(but 9 miles back where I'd come from).
At last I knew: there were two Forebodings,
each marked by a signpost to the other
and fools trudged to and fro between them,
across the empty savannah.
As I headed for a haven,
a high place from which foxes watch,
I chanced to read a paper hat
made from an old newspaper, headed:
Franklin Again