Migration
I dream of mountains where I don't live
And scarce recall but for old connections
Circled round, made course corrections
And put down here, so here I live
I dream of roads where I don't walk
Ones that go slender on the senses
Sweetened along by rot-sweet fences
But my feet are here, so here I walk
I dream of jobs that I don't work
And never could, the good Lord knows
For money grows where money grows
And its roots run here, so here I work
I dream of places I don't belong
Not precisely, not anymore
And even if I did before
I belong here now, and that's what's wrong
from the Appalachian Journal 26:2 (Winter 1999)
5 comments:
Mate. This blog is amazing. How can I make it look this good ?
Thanks. Blogging is really quite easy once you sign on to it. It's an ongoing process to build any site, but it's so much easier to create and maintain a blog site than a traditional web site, and serves the same purpose.
Wow! Thank you! I always wanted to write in my site something like that. Can I take part of your post to my blog?
Sure, you are welcome to post this poem on your own site if you wish. Just be sure to give credit to the poet and its original publication, and a short reference or link to my blog site would be great, too! Thank you, and happy blogging!
thanks amigo! great post!
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