Rounding North

Am I coming, Are you going, Which way to North

To feel natural, To feel free

Skinned in fur, beneath a tree

Resting … Soundly

 

For the ground, I get dizzy

Clawing at restraints

Is it so simple, to be wanted

Or destined for complaints

Haunt me with your memories

Our freedom hides in the seeds

Sewn in paper printed pasts

Through naked visioned looking glass

Of rose hues and bluish grass

 

Are you coming, Am I going, Which way goes round

All the stress, Every tension

A bi-poll, what suspension

Waking … Globely

 

I’m going round, Which way confounds

Bathe me in fluid ease

Yellow sounds call out upon your breeze

Catch me, catch me, set me free

What is it that you want to be

Take me up into your hem

Drop the stitch and sew me in

Keep me just a little while

Treasure me … make me smile

 

Am I coming, What’s that sound

The hands are walking, which way round

Sounds of burning

Scorching … Earthly

 

I’m heading up, Correct me please

That fragrance resonates within

Triggering my puzzled grin

Flip me round

Cause me to spin

Vertigo shows me the way

Of travelers past my present stay

With the mischief tucked away

My direction waits another day

 

Poetry and Photography by A. Cusato
All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Art Teacher Abroad

I'm an art educator on a mission to explore every nook of the earth. Follow my photography on Instagram @virginiatrailslayer

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