It’s Monday morning, and time for another poem in the Map series on travel and discovery. When we leave home, we find new vistas to capture our imagination with their novelty. More importantly, we discover about that which is inside of us, finally having a chance to listen to that all important inner voice that often gets lost in the cacophony of our daily lives.
across the water
been on the road a while now.
landed on the edge of the final edge,
a beach, empty,
clouded sky backlit by unseen sinking sun.
wind scatters the cold sand,
dunes it around driftwood and rotting seaweed.
a palette of grays and browns.
I look across the water with closed eyes,
casting a line into memory.
a tug as the hook sets six thousand miles away.
the catch: a glistening day,
another beach on another sea,
the breeze cool, the sun warm.
I walk with a lifelong friend and his wife-to-be.
then it was the sun I basked in,
now they are the heat I feel through my jacket.
the wind kicks up,
the line snaps.
my catch slips away
leaving only a few gleaming scales to fade.
I turn to the path that leads to a bedroom
in a town of strangers.
one foot in front of the other.