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Wanderers



The Nymph’s whisper
awakens the weary wanders;
the melodic breeze loosens their sore backs.

Journeying, on the gypsy road,
sifting through cruel and beautiful places,
with every new sight they take in,
they witness moments.

A bearded storyteller
slowly moves his hand over a campfire;
his voice smooth as midnight. He entrances
a little boy grinning with missing teeth.

A silver haired woman
stands before her tribe,
pointing at a drawing in the dirt,
a wolf baying at the moon.

A little girl
stares deeply into the palm
of a newborn and promises
a long life for the little one.


A band of three
strum their string instruments,
couples stump their feet, and
pick up on the merry jig.

A tall magician
twirls  his thumbs and a basket lifts
off the ground, a curious woman
pokes at the oddity that continues to rise.


People watch, wonder about,
and wait for the wanderers
carried by the wind.


A contest entry

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Comments

  • Virgoan
    November 9

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    I like when the feel of travelling and age old norm is well rendered into writing. This one didn't fail to do that. I am like sitting here and Boccaccio will be reading a tale in a while. Definitely a finalist.

    Thanks for sharing.