wild within wild

wild within wild

I don’t belong
in the
crowded cafe
central station bustle
crammed city streets
shopping centres
peak hour tram rides home.

Give me
the desolate moors 
of Exmoor
the cliffs
and rugged 
Celtic Sea tide

I belong in the 
oceans
of Byron
little Wategoes
where the dolphins swim

I don’t belong
where only humans dwell.
Some part of me
smacks at the concrete artifice
we have made

Give me the lonely bush
of Eildon’s high country
miles upon miles
of ghost gum
sanctuaries

the birds of my city home
they are my friends
they guide me, warn me,
laugh and giggle at me

the neighbour’s big husky
patrols our street
she has the eyes
of her ancestors

I am wary
alive
with her so near
(which is good)

broken-hearted misfit
belongs in the moors of home
where mum wrapped me 
in scarves
in hats
in layers

cheeks whipped with wind
pink & fresh
eyes clear

I was
wild within wild.

Comments

[venus]

I love this poem Bee. All of your poems infact. I too feel wild with wild. Thank you for sharing.

[Bee]

thanks Venus! your comments are much appreciated xox Bee

[Garth Allen]

Bee my old friend. I do miss you. Thank you for your poem. It brought to the surface many aspirations I have to get back into visiting some of those special places. Those places we visited together in our youth. Those places that we hold dear. I like to think there are glimpses still in the hustle and bustle of favoured places. However, I do find it harder to belong to those glimpses.