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| Traveler Winter's breath--cold and dank, bites to the marrow of the bone. Numb fingers dig more deeply to grasp at warmth no longer there. Hunched in a tattered coat; bent against the wind. Weighed down by his duffel, home and bed upon bowed back. Gravel crunches with each step, further from an old life. Luxury left long behind; remembered with regret filled sigh. What would this traveler give, to return to the warmth of memories? To remake choices, made in haste--without thought. By: Graci �2001-- Lorrie Workman Return To Graci's Poetry Page |
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