The Wednesday I Paddled Away

Because I spoke with a poet today and am feeling quite poetic, here is something I wrote a while back, but I just remembered it and get something new everytime. And unlike most of my work I have no need to touch it. I like it just the way it is.

The Wednesday I Paddled Away

The sun in the half hazed sky
Says its four in the afternoon
Which means I’m headed West
Which is good, because I started East.

There are no such thing as states and territories
And no place to vote Republican or Democrat
Only the places I allow my feet to stroll

There are no pies for me to steal
Off of local’s window sills
My eyes are blinded and
Translucent orange rays hinder my vision
It will be dark soon
So I absorb the light.

The scent of blooming May flowers
That ants dwell in
And tranquil stirs of life
That are as expected as wanted
Allured me here

I sleep on stones in the middle of the river
Carved smooth by March waters
The mosquitoes stay near the muddy shore, as do the animals
My mandolin speaks the words I cannot

I’m sure the others are worried
As the crescent moon makes an appearance
I’ll canoe home now