Poetry of the Road
I said, “Don't fall in love,” the day we met;
“I travel light upon the open road.
My scruff and scrawl has long ago been set,
don't somehow have the dream that I have changed.”
It's clear that you were deaf to all I said,
that somewhere in your mind I would amend
my habits that were long since set in stone
and live at last within the picket fence.
I told you I would never stay for long,
that desert shimmers on the interstate
were siren lures that played upon my heart
and I would follow them until what ceased
was poetry that called me further west
and played within my ears like dulcet tones
of desert grass and breezes in mesquite,
of yuccas standing tall and far apart,
until the asphalt and cement converged
and could no longer journey to an end,
and if I could not swim across the sea
I'd drop my pack and plant myself for good
for there was nowhere left to go. Til then
I will avail myself of vacant streets
that lumber long into the fervent night.
I'll walk or thumb a ride until I'm done.
Now I must go and have to say good-bye.
I'm sorry for your tears, but you did know
that I would leave one day. Now dry your eyes
and let us kiss but sweetly as I go.
Be glad I'll be fulfilled upon my way
and welcome any blessings when they show.
Food and drink will come as it is offered;
I'll take it gladly, and not ask for more.
I wish the best and more to come to you.
You must conceive we're beings of a kind:
you're set in your own ways as I'm in mine,
but trees prosper best where they are planted.
Narcotic gusts of wilderness come strong.
If I now not abide them I will die.
I cannot tarry longer, I must flee
to walk with whispers to the far beyond.
3rd Place
Travelling Light Contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
9/23/17
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