Expatriate

I scan the skies as vapor sails,
made wide by distance, destinations
guessed at, criss-cross trails
of global peregrinations;
two of thousands flying high
'til touchdown, from a roaring to a sigh. 

Time and separation matter not,
our spirits meld where'er we land,
cities mysterious and grand,
we simmer in a melting pot.
In early years we settled down,
Republic versus Queen and Crown,
three thousand miles, an ocean's span
of redefining can't and can. 

An innocent, so far abroad,
an interstitial, like a fraud,
forever seeks the real me
while clinging to your constancy;
expatriate, with memories of
England dear, the land I love.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Pinet Avatar
February 14, 2016 at 11:06 AM
I am totally impressed, you are a talented poet. This is very well written, with impeccable imagery and outstanding pros. Your words gently take the reader to your private place and we too can share the dread and loss expressed within your words. Emile #7
Bickerstaffe Avatar
February 14, 2016 at 12:22 PM
Merci beaucoup mon ami! Your words of praise, and encouragement and the 7 are greatly appreciated... Best wishes, Keith
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