Wednesday, March 6, 2013


I’m not sure where it came from,

perhaps because I lived in the same country home

for my first eighteen years.

Maybe it was because of the fun we had on vacations

 to Delaware, Michigan, north Pennsylvania.

It could be because of my parents’ encouragement

to get out and explore new places.

I’m not sure where the wanderlust came from.

But it’s like an itch

that starts from the inside.

It tingles in my fingers and feet.

When I get in the car

I think of getting on the highway

and not stopping.

I think of the places I haven’t been.

A yearning to get away from daily life

niggles at my mind.

The squares on my calendar

beg to be filled in with a new destination.

Perhaps it’s a spiritual affliction,

knowing that this world isn’t my home

and I shouldn’t get too comfortable here.










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