On a high horse the brilliance of the moon
the only place with an uncluttered view
a big wind litters the landscape with obsolete
things that need to break free

I forage long nights through downed rubble
plans for future development remain virtual
juxtaposed against knowing but you will know
you have been here before

Misplaced longing a catch-all for vagrants

Finding one’s self could be effortless
no roof    no house    no street
fold into yourself this odd freedom
leave what has already been discarded

Selective reconstruction proves
memory a one act play


Jean Cassidy   2012

poetry, wnc art, wnc writing, writing

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