Local Wanderer | Short Poem No. 26

The local wanderer.

My body sits at my desk

but my brain. . .nope.

My eyes scan the screen

but my mind won’t cope.

My fingers type away

while my mind packs its bags.

My foot taps the desk

as my mind drags.

local wanderer

I’m the landlocked pirate

who watches the wind blow through the trees;

the marooned sailor who has

never crossed the seas.

I haven’t freed my sails to

fly in the ocean breeze.

I’ve never conquered the world

and lived at ease.

No, I just sit here and tap my pen away,

looking at this stack of papers.

I lean back, stretch,

blink my eyes a few times,

and move on to the next thing.

Photo by Guilherme Stecanella on Unsplash.

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