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under the roof of my friends…

Woke this morning to the sound of clouds rushing by my head… There was a scent of cedar that lined my bed. The room was as foreign as my mood and as far removed from everything I thought I recently understood. There was a pain in my lower half that exceeded the pain I was suffering in my lower back. It was the pain of knowing that this peaceful rest would soon end…

On the road again where I can always find solace in motion. I sleep with the wheels as my lullaby, at peace with all that surrounds me. But I will dream of that quiet room under my friend’s roof of in the countryside.

October 26th 2012

-The plume wine poet

 

 

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