poetry & things

To travel

I am looking at maps, constellations and planets

plotting routes to drive, to hike this country

seems I would stagnate and die

were I to stay put all of the time

my eyes scale topographies

like braille, my fingers feel

the green of flowering fields

the rain running down hills

always I dream of skies

I envy birds flying over

in cities, I don’t seem to settle

pace this floor, a caged animal

daydream of wilderness walks,

spending nights watching stars fall

the heavenly peace of it all.

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