deepundergroundpoetry.com

Misc.

I.

Disembark;

Let seep
In to the sand,

Feet, long-wandering;

The first footfall
In this shadowland.



II.

Landlocked;

This wanderlust:
The finest dust,

Drawn in to my lungs;

And for a breath,
A moment, I rest,

And plead my wanderings
Be not yet done.




III.

Plane’s touched down;
The tarmac dark and hot;

My feet are now eager
To squander every mile they’ve got;

But grant me just one night
Beneath a downpour of city rain,

Before I am recalled
To that homeward plane.
tell_me_wy
Written by tell_me_wy
Published
Author's Note
Completely random?
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