Tumbleweed (Poetry)

Down darkened streets in some poor part of town
dream tumbleweed is chivvied, pushed along
by winds that follow with no place to go
but onward through the shadows stretching blind
up alleyways where those unseen lie hushed
and sleeping as they sense it rolling past.

Rootless born, and homeless all its life
a tangle of existance — leaf and stem
draws succour from whatever place it can
unhealthy as a vagrant grey of skin
uncaring of direction — anyplace
will do to rest...it twitches, wanders on

and hits the highway — bowled by a fast breeze
its lightness like a thought that won’t touch down
cannot bear to linger overlong
as though the world might capture, weight its soul
and pin it to the ground for neatness sake
deny its natural need to always roam.

Some nights I’m restless, feel my spirit share
its footloose journey spooling out a dream
unwinding down a far and foreign road
and cross those borders unobserved and free
of motives other than true freedom’s case —
to wherever the odd fancy’s taking me.