smallish dreams, and a bimble or two
really, we just want to feel our feet
on cobbled streets and ask the locals
where to eat and breathe in air we
might have to (slightly) translate first.
we’ve got this thirst for Irish pubs
and tiny shoppes and ridiculous green
against cobalt sky, traffic jams
of busy-body sheep.
we’ll sleep on an old featherbed
or in a castle, echo our voices
across the Scottish moors and
maybe find an old book store
to run for a year (or more). the
kids have turned from toddlers
to grown teens, and so you and I
have nothing in between us
but wanderlust wishes and small
-ish dreams of strange places,
a familiar hand
helping me over those last hills.
Day 2 for the April PAD Challenge.