He rolls like the
river,
always on the move.
I said,
"What are you afraid of, boy?"
He said,
"Nothing; I just can't stay still."
I said,
"They got meds for that."
It's in my bones, I gotta
keep going.
Knapsack ...no sack,
don't matter, just me and
those highways.
I said, well, it cost you everything;
your house, your wife;
don't you want to settle
down sometimes?
Nope, he said, as he turned
his back and headed west
towards the desert.
His face to the sun.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: August 31st, 2025 22:25
- Comment from author about the poem: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VsFfqF7Cuhc Here's a link to my YouTube channel, where I read from my poetry books: Seedy Town Blues, Collected Poems; It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse; and Sleep Always Calls. They are available on Amazon.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 33
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Teddy.15
Comments6
A great write, Thomas. This has a Kerouac On The Road vibe. Love it!
Thank you, my friend.
Some have that itch forever blown by the wind like a tumbleweed. Good write Thomas
Thank you.
Most welcome Thomas
Excellent write, Thomas! Loved it! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Sometimes our souls just cannot rest. 🌹
Can't imagine being like that . Different I suppose. Good Write.
Well done my friend
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