My Hidden Days As a Gypsy
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My hidden life as a gypsy started the day I left home,
and hitched-hiked across a continent.The long hours
readily spent in wondrous times of searching for
amazing people from all walks of life and landscapes
that looked like paintings.The unfettered youthful
desire to see and explore the world.
horizon's splayed light
will spread like in coming tide
night covers the day
The enduring pain from the journey was a flame
to give strength to the fragile will.Lack of food
and nourishment was a constant friend as chilly
mornings lifted tired eyelids to hard ground and
burned out fires.The naked roads were nothing
more than long ribbons that stretched to the skyline
until a car would pass with drivers staring out empty
windows from mundane lives passing judgement
on a lonely traveler in worn clothes and a back pack.
And yet it was my freedom that frightened them most,
for I was doing what they dreamed of and never had
the courage to do.
days turn into night
life is a distance traveled
tomorrow is a thought
2/15/17
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