One

You are one in a hundred
And one in a million

A family of land wanderers
With tendriled fingers
Reaching every crack and crevice
Every corner of the planet

You and I
We’re not much of fighters
But we know how to pack our bags at night
Or noon
Or how to just leave
With nothing

We starve for a day
And feast for seven

We won’t be found
In grit
In spotlight

We live in our heads
And above

Slid between bars of music
In the white space around
And between
And inside
The letters of a story

Through lost grandparents
And lost countries
We always seem
To return

But even today
If the world were a village
Of one hundred

Of us,
There would be just one