Tuesday, September 05, 2023

The Traveler

He can't sit still for long at a time.

His feet get itchy to roam.

Mind wandering to far off places;

His walking boots are his home.

A malcontent? I'm thinking not;

Just curious is all.

He simply must investigate

That mournful distant call.

It beckons like the sirens

Calling out to passing ships.

Its lure becomes obsession

As the frenzy stirs and whips.

There's nothing to control the urge;

No way he can evade.

The traveler must follow.

The journey must be made.

 

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