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Literature Text
I left when the cows came home
escaped on a dusty bus headed for
the sun with passengers
comfortable in slumber by the
large windows scratched by
time and wild children
stuck in an ever-moving inside
I had this dream folded in my suitcase
light for traveling
and this man
with all the roads of the world carved into his face
laughed at the little all that I carried, he laughed
deepening the paths he footed
with a suitcase dragging
in his once young, white-knuckled hands
now sat in his lap trembling from heavy incredulity
my naivety, to him, amusing but lighting
his once dull, resigned eyes
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Comments25
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I love poems about runaways and this is so much more than that.
I just imagined a farm boy trying to make his way out of a small life and holding on to this unfailing belief that there's something bigger and better and far off out there for him. Unless, you know, this person' ain't actually a runaway and I'm reading too much into it, haha.
I just imagined a farm boy trying to make his way out of a small life and holding on to this unfailing belief that there's something bigger and better and far off out there for him. Unless, you know, this person' ain't actually a runaway and I'm reading too much into it, haha.