Here’s a happy little poem to commiserate with folks who find themselves away from family on travel. Travel has slowed down for me a bit lately, but last year I learned I don’t travel well.
Without further ado:
Ode on Business Travel
So many
days away
make life
gray—Spring
waters flow
clear at the source
Past roots
and grasses
and submerged
shrubs waving
their kracken-
like branches,
past muddy
banks where
hoof stirred
silt rises
in wisps
and clouds
the stream
opaque.
{ 8 comments }
I often feel the same way. Business travel gets old doesn’t it?
As always, love your poem. Especially the kracken-like branches. Great sounds throughout!
ESI and L.L., thanks. My poetry is so personal, I always hesitate a bit to post it. I’m glad it meant something to you.
Having replaced days in the saddle with days on the road I appreciate the “hoof stirred silt” part.
this takes me back to high school classroom days. thanks for sharing! it’s quite pretty.
folks who find themselves away
from family on travel give nice poem
that one
Thanks, you know I was an exchange student in high school? Changed my life.
Thanks, you know I was an exchange student in high school? Changed my life.
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