. . . And if you want to be free, be Free. Things I do, and think about.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Travel poems and dealing
Nowhereville, Florida USA
Small town America expanding
and contracting in time with
the seasons as if it were a screaming
heaving child's belly; rising and falling
with each dramatic breath taken.
Spanish moss dripping over each branch
causing a second—lower sky to form
dancing over the beach on a jet blue day.
The moss allows us to use our imaginations
taking us back in time to the days before:
before settelers or technology or problems.
All day long we lie there head to head
staring at the different shapes and lengths
of the moss and watch it dance in the breeze
as we tell each other stories, about the day
that we will leave this small town.
. . . And if you want to be free, be Free. Things I do, and think about.