I am learning -
to step outside
my self,
my mind in all of its glorious storm,
my problems and some of that ephemeral, impending danger,
to leave the labels that I have used to defined me behind
with the imminent feeling of isolation.
I seek to stand naked of the cloying psychic scum.
To paint the world with the joy and
the clean fear of living.

I am not my scars
or my misdeeds
or the whirlwinds that cry for reaping.

Life begs to begin anew
each day and
I have learned to say no,
preferring the safety
of dark madness
in the caves of my mind.

And so, for this moment,
I stand bare-chested,
like Whitman,
looking to the open road before me.

Dana Sanford

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Photo by Dominik Kiss on Unsplash

Poet. Philosopher. A sense of Humor. 60 years ago I rode the winds at the top of a tall cottonwood. Buy me a coffee @

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