Traveled
by Odin Roark

Once traveled
looking back is a
smoke-filled window.

Once traveled
the smoky windows rattle their endless resentment
at the windy changes.

But...The changes
rattles
smoky windows
oh, how sweet their receding motion.
oh, how sweet to breathe the air of the uphill movement
of struggling roots
of rustling branches
of open spaces crying to be filled

with visions
with excavations of the mind
with tempestuous truth
with directions into endless detours
with paths...trails...roads...
roads to be once again...

Traveled