Friday, July 14, 2017

The Rambler Has Returned

What does it mean to travel and come home—
To feel your gypsy blood stirred
To understand a little bit of what it’s like
For the ocean to swallow the moon

The highway holds me, calls me
And I followed wherever it leads
I am no braver than you
It’s just that curiosity overcame fear

Yet, I amaze myself!
The miracles wrought by these middle-aged bones
Long, steady climbs, map-reading
Flat-fixing, chowder slurping—skills!

Each day I faced the world, unknown
I can do this, I reminded myself, maybe
I’m out to find midnight, constellations
Spread out across the sky, quiet bays

I had no idea I’d meet a fisherman,
A lady selling blueberry ice cream
A tree with a huge burr, a fairy table
Fellow travelers waiting at the dock.

Together and alone, strangers and friends
We plied the open road
It’s not about certainty, getting there

If only to say I did it, and would do it again.






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