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  • Writer's pictureTuur Verheyde


For M.

So, you will go on,

Travelling, for a moon

Or so, to sights I know

Not where. I will admit

Envy sighs as I write this,

And worry whines like

A patronising tut. Neither

Is of use to you. You wish

To go and traverse space

Untracked, unpinned;

True adventure unfolds

Unmeasured. And I wish

I could go with you and

Be bear witness, but this

Trek is yours alone, your

Precious breath drawing

In memories before hustle

And bustle become boss.

Go then, traveller, on and on,

To wherever fancy takes you.

We will be here, fretting and

Forgetting, wondering who will

Be borne back to us on tides

Of renewal, as through us

Home croons its stifling

Siren song.

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