the nomad will surely
slip from my spirit as
the wrinkles slowly sneak into
the corners of my eyes, right?

the older i get, the stronger
the hunger for wandering grows
(which is what naturally happens
when one goes too long
without nourishment)

i am gathering too much clutter:
too many books, too many pretty bottles,
too many magazine subscriptions succumbed to

i think my motivation to remain
on the move may be due to fear of my
propensity for hoarding

and it is easier somehow
to abandon a big pile
than to toss aside
one little thing
at a time

maybe all nomads
are hoarders
in denial
collecting stories
and friendships
carrying them
everywhere they go
getting more.


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