Jonathan Watson


I was seduced by the title, Lonely Planet
& the laminated covers showing faraway
Places, shimmering in solitary rigor

Upon learning that the earth was round, who has not
Dreamed of roaming & conquering its roughest terrains
To give every road a name & destination

But we know, in our primeval brains, there are limits
To our wanderlusts; yet there is nothing we can do

When the voices sound beyond the horizon, mocking us,
& we discover, too late, that the land and its roots
Want to feel us creep & trek toward trepidation


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