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I've scuffed my boot soles
On the streets and boardwalks
Of the largest cities in the world,
Been foreign and peculiar
In a range of abstractions,
Spreading my gibberish
Across borders and oceans,
Up and down skyscrapers,
To monuments ancient and new,
Echoing through valleys
And across red rooftops,
To ripple in silver pools
And undulate in obscurity.
And now I'm ready
To fall asleep to the music
Of crickets resonating
Under floorboards;
To yawn and wipe the dew
From porch rails for a place
To sit with my coffee

And the fauna waking
With elemental ambitions;
To walk in a town so small
That everyone will wonder
Who the hell I am.


Clockworkchris said…
This is one hell of a poem!! The ending is stupendous and falling asleep to the crickets-you have entered the house and neighborhood of my childhood. So many great descriptions. This is what poetry is about. Man "elemental ambitions," where do you come up with this stuff?
Rob Kistner said…
ST - Great write. I hope you find that place.
bookbinds said…
Some great images in this poem and I really like the punch in the last line.
paris parfait said…
Your terrific poem tells a very familiar story for me, including the last bit (which is what happens when I return to my hometown, rarely).
...deb said…
It would be great to hear this read.
chicklegirl said…
You captured so eloquently the yearning to be at rest, at home.

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