#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
I wake up in my bed, my home, my
home town, my birth state, my home
station of news tells, while I lace
dry mudded boots of a country, tossed;
I fell asleep, anchored in familiar - woke
to boundaries of tiny minds that tightened,
closed all their borders.
I hike familiar landscape, where no borders
keep the Charles River from spilling over
into Rocky Narrows woods, I want to trust
unguarded landmarks, I keep wondering
along, crossing harmless, bouldered
old walls, how they open into anybody's
marshy meadow.
All photos and text copyright 2017 by Kelly DuMar