by Justine C. Tajonera
I've always envied
the traveler.
Somehow he makes
enough to hie off
to South America
or blow with the Siberian
wind.
Meanwhile, I pedal
my machine.
My real dilemma
is where I want
to go,
who I want
to be.
If I were light enough
to travel on
bird bones
or flat enough
to glide
in the air
I still wouldn't
take off
if I didn't already
know
that I was a creature
of flight.
(Oct. 25, 2009)
Image from getrichslowly.org
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