A Poem for Travel



Let out to explore new places,

our whole bodies become ours again.

Cloaked in the anonymity of away,

without the false adrenaline of duty

marching us forward hurried,

our knotted shoulders unroll

into the soft posture of vacationing

couples whose sunlit day packs

are the heaviest burden

their backs must bear.

Unbound from everyday,

our empty hands dance open

recalling what they did naturally,

before they became machines assigned

to hold onto what we don’t want to lose.

Our best days are when we are strangers

lost in the landscape of new questions,

our schedules so loose that we lean our heads

to just listen...and find ourselves in love

with the possibilities of every sound

we hear: laughter, children, traffic, songbirds,

and the happy whir of our own thoughts

escaping the home of our heads.

Anne McCrady, 2016

« Return to Home | View Archives