Lone Traveler

In a partnered land I am a lone traveler
Shake the dust from my shoes
Only to step back on
The beaten path
To somewhere
Searching for a friend
or lover
Yearning across each new route
crossing a bland landscape
Maybe this time
Maybe today
In one crystalline moment
My story will start
Faded ink drawings will swell into full color
Two will sway gently in a slow dance
I am a lone traveler
My stoic face hides the hourglass fear
As time slips ever faster
Pouring my life out onto the floor
the possible lying crumpled at the bottom of a knapsack
I’m just a lone traveler
Lonely traveler
Never believing that this is all
Still waiting
For the real story to begin 


About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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