Wanderful

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Wanderful

I wander through the caves,
past a river making waves,
splitting wolves from riled apes,
near feathered color-scapes.

Secret ways are found,
through echoes that abound,
'til masses do come near,
without the misty fear.

Slip sliding through the crowds,
to daytime under clouds,
and down the streets I go,
to where I do not know.

I really just don't care,
anywhere's as good as there,
up and down, winding streets,
motorcycle softly greets.

So soft I slide astride
and rev up for a ride.

Cruising long without speed,
joyful that there is no need;
leaning in, curving round,
floating straight with rumbling sound.

Time has come, time to stop;
off the bike I do hop.
Walking calls, soft to me;
stride away, look and see.
Off into dampened park;
walk on through without mark.

Down again, to the caves;
wander on, without waves.

n = 2,095; March 18th, 2017

Notes

I had this dream where I wandered through Charlottesville, including through caves in a zoo in the middle of town. It was an incredibly peaceful and soothing dream.

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