Never before have I turned
to the Silver Lady for comfort.
Who would ask the wild queen,
jealous of her solitude, for a bedtime
story or a sympathetic touch?
But now, different earth beneath my feet,
the Yangtze River beside me
instead of the Mississippi,
I look to the night sky.
She has laid aside her bow;
her hand is cool on my cheek.
Her grave eyes remind me:
she knows all about wandering
and, it must follow,
all about going home.
“Wanderer” was printed in Tracks, No. 9 of Inwood Indiana. Pick up the paperback from Prolific Press; the stories and poems published online are free to read here.
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