Eyes like Embers

I am a nomad,
in a moment of stillness.

My camp’s fire cools
and the coals glimmer,
like the eyes of wolves
watching from the woodline,
in the distance.

Soon, I will roll my kit,
fold and stow the tent,
and set forth, north,
or west, intending
to breathe the dust
of the final road,
that outward, extends.

My cookpot is heavy,
but I have yet to tire
from carrying it.

I am the nomad,
in a moment of realness.

There is no peace for me
in stillness.

Until death, I do wander,
married to the wolves
and the wonders
of wild blue sky
and the earth,

undiscovered.


© CG Tenpenny, 2019.

The time for forward movement is getting close. I think I’ll venture off into America to see what I can find. A few years of RV life might be the cure for what ails me.

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CG Tenpenny

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