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~ Poetry by me ~


On the Road

Theyve called me wayward as the wind
that blows as ages yore; 
Ive wandered for a thousand years,
Ill wander thousand more.

Im far as dreams, which in the morn
your memory still haunt;
near as the moon, that in a lake
your grasping fingers taunts.

How can you trust me? Like the air
between the earth and sky
I will not catch you when you fall,
but teach you how to fly.

Now city streets are my domain,
as once deserted ways,
like human hearts a wilderness,
I walk their hidden maze;

I will elude you like the breeze
unseen amidst the crowd;
I would be everywhere you turn,
a guest you cant keep out;

Perhaps Im wearing hobo rags
and squint at you an eye
while you, on daily business bent,
are sure to pass me by.

Youll never know me just from books,
my masks the scholars fool:
The map is not the territory,
the facets not the jewel.

2005 Michaela Macha

License: This poem may be freely distributed, provided it remains
unchanged, including the copyright notice and this License:

This work by Michaela Macha (www.odins-gift.com) is licensed
under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives License.

Image licensed. Copyright: rolffimages / 123RF Stock Photo