A Long Walk East
The birds gossip to one another
as I walk back from the farmer’s
market, whispering to each other that I
spent way too much on daikon radishes
and hibiscus soda. I take refuge from their
words in my own mind. I had a crazy
thought today, my love, and I just wanted
to bounce it off your romantic brain.
I thought about how wild the world is
that if I just leave my house and walk
in one direction long enough I would reach
the ocean eventually. If I spent less time
writing poetry and more time walking east,
I could revel in the sea breeze and shake
the sand from my hair. I could kiss the salt
spray and build castles out of driftwood.
I could weave the dune reeds into a fiber
crown and place it upon your head
and anoint you queen of the universe
or at least our 30 feet of white sand.
So if you think that that’s a good idea
and that yes, I could easily take a break
from writing poetry I will lace up my good
walking shoes, my dear, and leave the pens
and paper at home, walking east into the sunrise.
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