POETRY IN MOTION
The Wanderer
He wandered through untrodden hills
Beneath unclouded skies;
Although he walked on leaden feet,
He dreamed of paradise.
And, casting off his recent past,
He vied to be alone -
Just him and Mother Nature
(And, of course, his mobile phone).
As evening fell and shadows grew,
He wistfully did roam;
Then when he'd had enough of that,
He got a taxi home.
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The Wanderer
The Wanderer
