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
Join the conversation!