A traveler born,
wanderlust galore,
never stops moving,
a wildfire out of control.
You plead for her heart,
but she’s in love with the world,
doesn’t commit, just quits,
starts again the next day.
A hurricane hits,
another natural disaster
she fights with ease.
Scars old and new
from climbing up tall mountains,
the physical kind,
others etched in her soul.
Maybe showers once a week,
owns two tees and some jeans,
living on the edge
of a cliff so high
vertigo would hit
if this wasn’t her life.
A broken girl who wanders
through the unknown
depths of the thick black forest
to a shadowy cave that lets
her quietly disappear.
She won’t admit to defeat
or to feeling alone,
she’s friends with the world,
a playground all her own.
She’ll send you a postcard,
or two or three, with stamps
nobody else can read.
Destinations bore her,
she never wants to arrive,
the journey keeps her alive.
- An original poem by Carly Kaczmarowski
"Adventure is out there." Go find it!
The One and Only,
Carly K.
Carly K.
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