Walkabout

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Travelling again

kicking dust

on sleeping tracks

I sigh for you

I’ve never known

just how far

can you take a gaze?

Across this desert

these badlands

these madlands?

Can you just

walk with it

and keep walking

until borders are crossed

papers handed in

to wary men

in small glassed rooms?

Travel  with it

to a new land

never to return

the same?

That gaze,

now

sun-bleached

scarred

older, wiser

tattooed by time

or

loved

beyond belief.

© DebRJordan 2012

travel love thoughts musing

◄ Svātantrya

Comments

Deborah Jordan

Mon 18th Feb 2013 22:41

thanks Dave :)

and thanks Cynthia.. it was just my line of thinking, pessimistic maybe, trying to be stoical if what seemed to be something turned out not to be or just changed along the way.Like some journeys turn out when you're not sure where you're going anyway,could go one way, could go the other,or yep both roads could well merge into one. Guilty of B&W thinking again,me.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 18th Feb 2013 20:29

Very well expressed with innovative images. Why is there a 'choice' at the end? Does one eliminate the other?

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Dave Bradley

Sat 16th Feb 2013 00:30

I agree with Ann. Couldn't have put it better

Deborah Jordan

Fri 15th Feb 2013 22:56

thank you Ann :) i hope you and my ancestral homeland are well this winter :)

Deborah Jordan

Fri 15th Feb 2013 22:55

they aren't dissimilar John i have quite nice little feet it has been said..
It's my railway line though.

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John Coopey

Fri 15th Feb 2013 22:34

Are they your feet?

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Ann Foxglove

Thu 14th Feb 2013 13:21

Beautiful, clear-as-a-mountain-stream poem. Lovely.

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