Sometimes,
on a sunny day,
I will lay on my living room floor
and stare at the empty blue sky,
upside down,
and wonder,
what would happen
if I left.
Sometimes I imagine myself on a giant rusty freighter
hauling supplies to and from China,
rocking on heavy ways
slipping on slippery boards
leaning over the edge
with a seasick stomach
and waiting for days in foreign harbors
as the captain patiently sits and waits
and watches
for the next boat to leave.
Other times I imagine myself on the road,
speeding down a long and narrow highway
through the mountains and hills of Washington
and then
through the flatlands of Montana,
just speeding along
with no destination in mind
happy to just see scenery
flitting by
and hair
blowing
in the wind.
And every now an then
I place myself somewhere
very bizarre
like Mongolia
or Serbia
where not another
english speaking soul
resides
and where all that encompasses me
is land and sky and
bitter frigid
cold.
And there
I imagine myself talking to nobody,
nobody except for,
of course,
God.
Sometimes I think of all that,
and my heart grows heavy,
as I go plodding through life,
tasks weighing me down like anchors,
arms shackled to Seattle,
city skyscrapers
looming over me
telling me
don't go
don't go
we miss you
we need you.
And I sigh.
And I say
"Okay,
okay,
I will stay,
I will stay,
for now."
I say "for now"
everytime
and I wonder
when
"for now"
will end.
