I move through the wide plains
Around narrow hills even
Down a mountain and
Sometimes through a valley.
Skipping through forests or
Gliding along desert winds
They call me the wanderer
A traveller without an ally.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I move through the wide plains
Around narrow hills even
Down a mountain and
Sometimes through a valley.
Skipping through forests or
Gliding along desert winds
They call me the wanderer
A traveller without an ally.