two.

sometimes I close my eyes
and try to envision what it will be like
somehow sheep always work
themselves into my visions

(statistic: there are
seven sheep to every kiwi)

but when it comes down to the fact
I can’t imagine how it will be

the uncertainty
the insurgency
the enormity

the freedom

no permanent residence
no Christmas tree in December
no room to call my own
no sense of home

just a pack flung on my back
the wide open road
and my heart’s song

I think I can live with that

~~~~~*~

six || five || four || three || two

Advertisements