I miss the busy streets

in #poem3 years ago

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I was quiet within among
a riot of walkers without
a shred of expression
slipped from their pursed mouths

Clasped lock gait
a walk for the day
I without purpose
watched them fade away

From distance to distance
Before we would bow
to a veil, a muzzle
pretending somehow

That we could live without faces
the gate of our being

I miss seeing mouths
I miss your face
I miss the gesture of a simple embrace

We drove out to
the country side
where we walked about
the spirit and mind

There is no shackle
out here where the forest
of white pine can be yours
face filled and divine

What I love I value
this is my guide
I don't need another
to pretend to know my

Heart, my state, my boundaries
my freedoms my things I'll never do
and my things I have yet to do

Suppress me
and I will roam
like an angel on GPS
to a fragrant throne

Until I see
all the places where
I can be at home

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