Exploring “DeKalb County”: What Ifs, Roads Not Taken, and the Stories We Choose

Alt Text: "An artistic representation of a blue house in the suburbs with Atlanta's skyline in the background, symbolizing the exploration of alternate life choices and the tension between ease and chaos."

Dekalb County

We’d have packed our lives into boxes of dreams,
Left behind the gulf and its restless extremes.
Decatur’s heat would still hum through the air,
A blue house standing, steady and spare.

Insurance calls would fill the days,
The kind of grind that keeps fears at bay.
No watchers lurking, no cracks in the glass,
No tethered past pulling shadows to pass.

Echeveria would still claim her throne,
Her tiny hops through a yard we’d own.
The stage would have whispered, a casual affair,
No trauma laced in the laughter there.

Yet even then, in that life of ease,
Would the quiet have truly pleased?
Would the calm, so sure, the nights so plain,
Have quenched your thirst—or left you drained?

For here in the chaos, the scars took root,
Blooming as books, as art, as truth.
The dark carved you, the pain refined,
A richer hue in the threads that bind.

Would you trade the fire for safer ground,
For a love unchallenged, neatly wound?
For a quiet life of unbroken rest,
Would you have denied yourself the test?

DeKalb County hums of might-have-beens,
Of lives unwritten, uncarved within.
But this life, this chaos, with its jagged hue,
Was made for a soul as fierce as you.

Reflections on Dekalb County

In the realm of poetry, few themes resonate more universally than the “what ifs” of life. The choices we make—or don’t make—shape not only our paths but the narratives we craft about ourselves. My poem, DeKalb County, delves into this rich territory, imagining an alternate life had my husband and I moved to Atlanta in 2022.

This piece calls to mind Robert Frost’s iconic poem, The Road Not Taken. Frost’s speaker famously reflects on diverging paths, choosing one “less traveled by,” and attributing their life’s direction to that decision. But where Frost’s poem leaves the nature of the choice ambiguous, DeKalb County examines a specific alternative: the allure of stability, simplicity, and ease in contrast to the chaos and transformation of the life I’ve lived.

Atlanta as Sanctuary

In reality, Atlanta became my sanctuary—but not in the way I had imagined. After my separation, I retreated to this city for my safety and sanity, seeking solace from a stalking situation that had upended my sense of security. Atlanta had always felt like home to me, a place of familiarity and possibility. But stepping into this life as a single woman, I found myself navigating a version of the city I had never pictured.

For so long, I dreamed of sharing Atlanta with someone—a partner, a family. But the reality of experiencing it alone brought a bittersweet clarity. The city offered me healing, but also forced me to confront what it means to rebuild in solitude, to carve out a life in a place that had always felt like it belonged to "us," not just me.

The Power of “What If”

“What ifs” are haunting questions. They invite us to imagine lives we might have led—some smoother, some harder, but all impossibly unknowable. In DeKalb County, the imagined life is quieter, safer. A blue house in the suburbs becomes a symbol of comfort and predictability, a place where storms—literal and emotional—might not rage so often.

But the poem doesn’t linger in nostalgia or regret. Instead, it asks: Would that quieter life have been fulfilling? Would I have lost something vital by avoiding the struggles that ultimately shaped me? These questions ground the poem in a tension that feels deeply human: the push and pull between yearning for ease and embracing the fire that refines us.

Reflections on Frost

Frost’s poem reminds us that even the smallest decisions ripple outward in ways we can’t foresee. In DeKalb County, I explore not just the path taken but the one untaken. While Frost leaves us with the quiet satisfaction of choice, this poem leans into uncertainty. Would the “blue house life” have been easier? Yes. Better? Perhaps not.

The contrast between Frost’s measured reflection and the raw introspection of DeKalb County highlights an evolution in how we think about choice. Frost’s speaker finds meaning in their decision, but modern poetry often dwells in ambiguity—acknowledging that every choice leaves both gain and loss in its wake.

The Role of Place

Place plays a pivotal role in DeKalb County. The imagery of Decatur’s heat, the gulf’s restless waters, and Atlanta’s distant skyline paints a vivid picture of environment as both backdrop and participant in our lives. Would a move from Florida to Georgia have changed more than the scenery? How much do the places we inhabit shape us, and how much do we bring ourselves to any new landscape?

The poem suggests that while a different setting might offer stability, the internal storms—the “watchers” and “cracks in the glass”—are harder to escape. It is in facing these inner struggles, not fleeing them, that we truly grow.

Choosing Chaos

Ultimately, DeKalb County celebrates the life I’ve lived—not in spite of its chaos, but because of it. The scars, the struggles, and the unexpected turns have bloomed into art, truth, and connection. Like Frost’s speaker, I have made a choice, but instead of looking back with wistfulness or certainty, this poem looks forward with acceptance.

The “what ifs” will always hum in the background, but this life, with all its jagged edges and brilliant hues, is mine. Atlanta, once a dream to share, became the place where I reclaimed myself. And maybe that’s the true power of poetry—not to answer the questions, but to hold space for them, to turn them over like stones, and to find beauty in the weight of the unknown.

This content was created with the assistance of AI to ensure accuracy, clarity, and thoughtful engagement. Transparency is important to us, and we believe in openly sharing the tools used in our creative process.