In those places
Never a time could follow, as a story wraps around her voice.
Out there on the floor, where tales they spin, then climb, embrace.
Where different worlds come peering, while another falls away.
Chances are you’re dancing, between slow walks along Summer’s clouds.
Untamed, evolving, rising out across grass windswept miles of plains.
Charting invisible maps, in words, in voice, in dance.
Yarns, each thread fraying across bare feet in jeans, where slow quick,
Wind storms kiss long forgotten sun drenched wild earth.
In those places, where people journey beneath their weathered sky,
Amongst these tempests to typhoons where natural walls long remain.
A poem about walking in the many forgotten places, listening to their stories.