poem. Wanderlusting put on hold.

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Amigos collect in groups and greet with shyness,

Hugs and cheek kisses have gone way by us,

Wanderlusting put on hold,

To take the step would be too bold.

Across a network comments creep

and capture bitterness in the deep,

Moments lived words once said,

I wait to get the go ahead.

Professionals show up, amateurs get in the way,

who is to say has the right

The sun which warms my face through the wind,

disappears at night.

The form of an isolated tree on a shadowed hill.

Clouds that move without awareness appear still.

Cotton against my skin brushes oe’r my shoulder,

Your understanding of me as I become older.

Wheels can only turn on roads that are smooth,

grey in the gravel dirt in the groove.

The tapping of fingers east and west

It is time to stop it is time to rest.

But sleep has never been on my mind

A circle of want, an axe to grind.

I’m not ready,to lay down my tools to die,

The world still turns and so do I.

Forgive me if I run ahead,

Forgive the lost and learned friends

I wave goodbye to must and need,

I wave goodbye to haste and greed.

Forgive the ones who seek their self,

To nourish only with self care,

Forgive them all, for in their blindness

They cannot see the love out there.

I cannot sleep my eyes are open wide

Forgiving all I hold inside

Too much to do to speak my mind

That one day I shall leave behind.

Remember me, and please stay kind.

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