The Distance Traveled Poem by jan oskar hansen

The Distance Traveled



At last, I had made it, after traveling through many lands and
seen the infant moon, I was here in my street, it was empty;
curtain-less windows, no one inside, the wind of time blew
and autumn leaves, hard as metal, scratched names on asphalt.

When I looked up faces, in windows came into view, only to
wane when leaves erased their names; and tiny twisters, only
a mere handful of dust, twirled dismally around my feet.

Tried to leave, but was lamed by my past and had to see it
through. I was in a house looking down, but also in the street
looking up, a leaf scratched my name in asphalt, closed my
eyes didn’t want to see it erased. The wind suddenly ceased
as a mummified scream came to rest in the dust. Free!

Turned saw my vale, green and as familiar as the donkey in
the shade of the carob tree; my past was finally laid to rest.

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