There is a field
Somewhere
In the Highlands
Where the grass
Is just tall enough
To tickle your palms
As you brace your
Whole self
Against the lashing
Winds.
There are rocks
You are supposed
To have stood on
In Canada's
Pacific North,
Where you can taste
The salt in the air
With each breath.
There are forests
And mountains
And rivers
And oceans
You are still
Required
To experience,
And there is a place with red earth
Where your feet
Still need
To leave prints.
These places
And you
Have unfinished
Business.
YOU ARE READING
Melancholia
Poetrypoetry takes us to so many places, and we take poetry to so many places. here are poems about places, and sometimes the people found in them.
