Sometimes

A pilgrim and a poet
tent against the wind
this still young millennium
an untraveled road
all the bricks and the deadlines
lose their definitions
as my face softens into blankness
while something else calls me
there are plans in store for them
each and every one
but oh the homes I know are so
far away from here

“Stay a while”
Van sings
“Stay a while with your own ones”
but my own ones aren’t who they think
they are
my own ones are across space and time
no nation holds them
so a tent and a candle
paper and some pens
and I’ll be on my pilgrim’s way

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