Unfolded Map

I unfold the map,
I am here; but I am nowhere
upon this paper. These lines
Oh my life!
I am the NYC
tunnel system, the
transcontinental railroad,
red, blue, and yellow weave,
a tangled mess of unadulterated
fumbling, guesswork
maybe instinct,
I’ve made it this far, and
come to think
I love the big sky, the wild
roar of desperation, tempered
by a sit down meal
leaned against an oven,
ladders to get to my bedroom
No rest, I’ll run some more,
a habitual table tipper,
nighttime rears her shoulders –
I stand on them, thumb
the stars, the pages
of my book;
I hope some god finds me worthy
of an afternoon read someday.


Image via PIXABAY

6 thoughts on “Unfolded Map

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