I pored over the map, laid flat
before me, like some autocrat
*
plotting his next military adventure.
My voice husky from lack of sleep
*
and overindulgence in coffee,
I looked to my trusty companion
*
who too mused over the lines
and contours before us.
*
All of it is a ruse, really.
The schemes of men grown
*
beyond the age of mindless
road trips and other such
*
shenanigans. Inferring
some theme, an excuse
*
to push on, to transfer
this gnawing urge to meander
*
into concrete action.
Somewhere. Anywhere.
*
It mattered little
where we went.
*
Only that we could explain ourselves
when we returned home.
About the Creator
Randy Baker
Poet, author, essayist.
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Comments (5)
"...into concrete action." Such a sneaky little line. Great.
This reminded me of "One Day" a British series based on a novel where the male lead is so restless and on an infinite quest. I was like that when young also. Really well done!
Incredible work! Keep it up!😊
to push on, to transfer this gnawing urge to meander I loved these lines!
Loved it! Well done!