Break Free 


My final poem for the semester.


I remember provincetown,
and the champagne color
of the rays that feathered inside
and blushed her face a faint yet velvet amber.

and I was so scared to want freedom 
I could see myself running,
racing,
breaking free.

but i couldn’t quite let myself go, 
I couldn’t capture the luster of the world

she, with dainty hands pressed hard at ten and two,
gaze fixed and glazed forward,
while mingled words and jumbled melodies
dawning from the dash.

and I with my feet resting,
kicked-off sandals stashed beneath me.
lost songs, revived smiles . . .
and the call, that call
of endless yellow lines before us.

and I was so scared to want freedom 
I could see myself running,
racing,
breaking free.

and all along the cape highway,
trees –
fed by sand and
pressed hard by brilliant light –
diminishing to scrub pines.
houses tapered too
the air widened,
spread flat.
blue grew bluer,
white,
whiter.

on my mind the
outcasts.
they travel this very route
to its very end,
they congregate to wait
in the final town,
where they take pictures,
make music,
and plan for the trip
out.

but I couldn’t quite let myself go, 
I couldn’t capture the luster of this world

while we who might belong,
who are tied to this earth,
returned through rising trees
and dwindling horizons
and slept in safer compressions.

those cast-offs at the edge
still whisper in dilated darkness
the songs of what lies
beyond.


                             -Andyman

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