Vagrant

You might think. It must be possible to find

an undescribed spot on this lonely planet

As a boat floating on the unsuspecting water.

A mill sleeps in an exuberant landscape.

What could be easier than to be. Here. Now.

Within your head a colander full of thoughts.

Within your hands a box full of fresh deeds.

It is not true. I have to be someone. Necessary.

Chased by the dreaded idea. Of ​​what actually?

I glide through life as an industrious shadow.

I drink too hot coffee, make too many vows.

Only to discover I leave behind. A blank spot.

The abandoned shadow of an uprooted tree?

A stalwart traveller who has left his house?

A mockingbird flying to the irresistible south?