Finding No Where


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Finding No Where

© 2013 Kimberly Charbneau


   With his back pack dangling, and boots laced up, he started to walk somewhere of nothing but maybe some sticks or snakes in the grass off to the side of a beaten path with nothing but dew and fog in the air, and muddy water with lost debris along the bank of an empty life.  He couldn't see much of what was ahead accept a hazy coat of blinding clouds.  The trees in distance and even close by looked so vague, even more than his shadow.   But he didn't care.  He just kept walking to nowhere.      Nowhere is where he'd rather be.  "I can make it my own like an artists blank canvas with nothing but thoughts and imagination running wild, just like a cheetah escaped from a zoo.  This is where I'll find my way to a place on earth, as I wonder through the chilling air, across the bridges and above the water.  No one can stop me as I just keep walking to this path of joyous nowhere."

  And as he walked, further still, his legs were tired and his bones were cold.  He gazed around with wondering eyes as he opened his sleeping bag rolled up ever so tight.  Stars were twinkling as he could hear them sing, rest your weary head for the eve.  Close your eyes and dream in peace.  The wild is watching for your safety.  Never fear, just simply sleep.  

A fire he started with sticks and twigs, watching the smoke drift with the wind.  As he settled, he wrapped in warmth of extra socks and his coat as a pillow.  For then he laid upon the earth and closed his eyes to rest.

   The morning came ever so quickly as he woke to birds chirping and just a glimpse of a campfire left.  He could smell the smoke lingering over his head as he rubbed his eyes and began scrummaging through his old worn backpack.  He pulled out a comb for his hair then brushed his teeth, spitting the wash onto dirt under his feet.  A squirrel hopped over to see his back pack, then another hop as he wiggled his nose.  The man just watched without a sound, without a move, as the squirrel could smell the distinct aroma of peanuts coming from the back pack. 

 The man just smiled as the squirrel kept looking, but then he left finding nothing at all.  As the squirrel moved on out of sight and up a tree, the man laced up his boots and grabbed his back pack getting ready to leave.  "This is the path to no where that I'd love to be."


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