Santiago de Compostela
torn out of a magazine
tacked on the wall to the right of
my desk.
Birds singing in my ear
outside a newly opened window,
thank you October.
Someday I will walk
the pilgrims way
scallop shell on my backpack,
freedom in my heart.
But today it’s interviews
and 12 point font.
I can see the cathedral
to my right,
hear the birds to my left.
My future singing to me
patiently
comfy like a cradle
rocking me along.
soloesta 