he has breathed the land
the inhales his yesterdays
the exhales of what is next
where turbulence took him
on flights between pavement
and swirling sapphire he's lost in
the clouds hiding what is next
that is where he always aims
the mystery of the horizon
bearing all its promised new
in burning golden scarlet hue
lapping the burnt out candle lights
that wax and wane with the jealous moon
that only wishes to fly as fast as he
rushing to the just out of reach next
on a sea of land that ebbs in his soul
passing semis with cattle cargo
passing farmers going just a little farther
and families knowing not where they jaunt
for all of them tread on his wings
on his escape from mundane musings
he fears those might be the end of him
as it repeatedly and rapidly pounds on his chest
"What's next?"
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