to wherever

he has a sturdy suitcase
and wears a backpack
bulging
with supplies for the road

he’s waited patiently
for awhile
but there’s been
no sign
no indication
and now he is leaning back
eyes closed
against his luggage
in a deep reverie

when he feels
the first faint stirrings
ruffling up his shirtsleeves
it takes him a moment
to focus

then
he straightens up
grasps the suitcase handle
tight
with one hand
and thrusts
an arm
out to the side

he makes a sort of open fist
with the thumb at half-cock
and a finger held straight out
against the breeze

as the zephyr
turns into wind
and the wind
begins to howl
along the desolation
he can feel it curl around him
as though
in mid-
making-up-it’s-mind

a gust at his back
causes a folding of his legs
at the knees

he is seated

and at last
they are away

he has hitched a ride
wherever
the wind
might take him

a ride to
wherever else
that current
might go


© Frank Prem, 2017

Poem #23: in the cloud

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5 thoughts on “to wherever

  1. Perhaps I should be careful about making evaluations since I’ve only read a couple of your pieces so far, but there’s a strange and lovely quality to them. The best way I can put it right now is that they read like poems that were written to be poems, and if they happen to be anything else that’s a bonus.

    Liked by 1 person

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