To Be A Travel Writer

Location

Fingers fluttering across the keyboard

Pen in hand

Paper crisp

Inspiration flowing

As the sun sets in the west

On a foreign coastline

 

A scarred hand meets mine

With a callused grin

As words tumble from desert lips

To weave a story

Never before told

 

A few dollars in pocket

To carry through the week

 

Endless nights revising

Gallons of coffee

Numb fingertips

Stalled mind

Surging of adrenaline

Another chapter finished

 

A rickety bus travels down an unpaved road

Three seats remain empty

I contemplate the metaphor

 

Destination, unknown

 

Lesson, unlearned

 

Story, told.

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