Day 37: Moving On

I watch your
receding shore
the train station
a dot on the pilot’s horizon
where some one
or two or twenty
wave me home

I dream
soft palms
swaying while
wolfish whistles blow
and wings
golden downy
sing me soft
and low

I wake
I take my first steps
on new sands
the gravel under my feet
and hazy lazy clouds
I long for home

but that was no country for me

I set myself

Today’s prompt: I would/would not move to another country after this?

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