Backwards Traveller

I am not a wanderer.

These feet find too much home

in sandstone slopes

and moss edged red bricks

tucked up in dandelion lawns

and weather worn fence posts.

These souls loose their itch

too close to the boundary mark.

Shutter up too soon after leaving.

Always find a way of looking back

and remembering

everything I want. I have.

I just have to turn around.


 

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My first poem since January. The prompt was to write a poem about the adventure of travel but I’m not ashamed to say that I’m an utter home bird. I do like visiting new places but I hate being away from home for long. I’m one of those people who’s attachment to their own bed beats almost every other attachment I have.

I like knowing that I’m at home.

14 Comments

  1. I totally agree. My “adventure” was to time travel back to place in time when I was child and to that home. The best part of going away is coming home! The last line just says it all.

  2. I’m exactly the same, Carol. I love my home. I used to travel but I’ve got everything I want now, including memories. I love the poem. 😊

  3. I can relate to being a homebody. It’s always nice to be back home after a trip no matter how great it was and be able to crawl into your own bed. Well put!

  4. This is brilliant and it neatly turns the travel dream on its head. I feel we should be happy where we are. I should be but have got restless again. You convey a sense of peace and being at home with yourself in this. I thought my ‘soul had lost its itch’ wonderful line!

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