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.
