The Journey

Poetry and Icecream

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The world belonged to him at night.
The moon was his lantern,
the stars his friends.
He was at home here.
He looked upon his kingdom.
Wayside fires were his altars,
smoke, incense to his gods.
He journeyed not knowing why.
He knew no reason for not journeying.
His vague imaginings swung along
until he saw the distant hill.

Copyright © November 2012 Norma Martiri

Form: Erasure Poem

Written for dVerse Poets Pub – Meeting the Bar: Erasure Poetry
Taken from Sundow Slim by Henry Hubert Knibbs

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