Sunday, November 16, 2014

No destination in mind

I am a writer, sitting on this island
Having floated here on my water-proof suitcase
Jammed full of new writing tablets
Wordless pages, waiting to be filled with my letters.
I’m following the shade of the lone tree
So I don’t get sunburned
Scribbling letters into words that make sense.
And when I have filled all the lines
I will sit on the stream of contentment
And arrive back to where I started
And pray that someone will publish
My sadness away.

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