Traveling Rambles

i miss the gritty feeling

of crappy hotel sheets,

lulling me back to sleep,

reminding me -

you did it,

you escaped if only

for a moment, a day,

a week, but you did it.

i miss looking out

onto a street that

wasn’t second nature to me;

a street that moved like a wave,

the ebb and flow of busy

morning bodies,

probably feeling

as caught, caged,

trapped and confined

as i felt back home.

i miss the feeling

of the sun

through the dusty window,

letting me see clearer than i have

in ages

and the muffled sounds

of cars and pedestrians

at sunset -

romanticized by the gentle

orangey-peach glow.

i miss the smell of

old and earthy tea

with sweet honey

when that’s all i could stomach

the first morning

in a new place;

i, wanting to leave space

for the local cuisine.

i miss the feeling

of freedom

that comes with this adventure,

of no one knowing my name

and no one caring,

i miss the feeling

of knowing that my cage

of a home is miles and

miles behind me.