PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

We're packing up to leave. Seems like we just got here and we're already on the move again. This nomadic lifestyle is wearing me down. I'd like to be still for more than merely a few hours. It's good I guess, the desire to go to her is so overwhelming it's painful. Everywhere I visit I see her artwork. Turner says she doesn't come to gatherings anymore. At least I got a glimpse of her even if only in passing - singing really loud, car stereo blasting. Felt like I'd been struck by lightning, she looked so damn good I cried. I hope, wish, pray that I'm with her when the world ends.