A Year of Poems – Day 361

When travelers come to the palm trees
They come for something else
They do not come for the crashing waves
But they come for something else
They might say they come for the seagulls
Or the air with a pinch of salt
But when the travelers come to the seaside
They come for something else

What the traveler seeks is the ocean,
And not the big wet thing,
But the vast and rolling parchment
With a treasure map penciled in.
What the traveler seeks is the ocean
And the promise that rides along
Of a home that lies on the other side
Where nothing will be wrong.
What the travelers seek is the ocean
And I guess it’s the big wet thing,
Or at least that’s as close as it comes
When we’re on the wrong side of the sea.


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