Poem: Islands

Everyone wants to get off alone on an island.

Islands There’s an island out there The island no man is said to be, as well as places ducks swirl in and spread-sails idle by, each on their way to somewhere And mine is buttered yellow in waves of light and flowers A place familiar to my worried feet, as if I’d been there in something more than dreams If I could carve a life, instead of endless whittling, it would begin among those fields Explore and search for hidden caves, to learn my whereabouts The land I’m put upon’s too broad, a thousand choices before dinner, a hundred obligations yet this week Crossed and re-crossed, too many sets of foot-prints to find a path worth following So goodbye, I’m gone and outta here, before my legs get used to chairs Expectations given up, but hope alive that there’s a hunk just small enough for me to understand

This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection BROKEN PIECES available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats.