Saturday, 29 March 2014

Raised by a Flyboy Father



©Shers Gallagher 2014
...who could not sit still.
Over miles with him
we 'rode or bust'
to this and that highway
and some other byway
that stretched across
the Great Divide. 
He settled in the end,
back to where he started.
And I like him,
having been raised in motion,
could not sit still.
Over miles alone
I trekked
across lava rock that glistened
like jagged points of death
and Steppes that went nowhere
until they sank into the sun.
Only then,
like my father,
did I arrive with a yearning 
to come back home.


4 comments:

  1. Moving thoughts, for us all.
    Nigel

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  2. I'm thinking that m a n y of us identifiy somewhat with this idea we had, then executed. Always on the move, whether from job to job, drug to drug, place to place or person to person...I jumped nervously from here to there, never giving it much thought, never considering an apparent outcome.

    Eventually (surprising how many years it took!) I hankered to "come back home"...wherever that home was. And here I am--we are?--HOME! Thanks, Shers, you wrote my story SO well!!!!--grin!

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  3. Always a pleasure, Steve darlin; ;)

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