The Journeyman

A wander through the backwater that day
A fly was hooked and baited on the line
The listener who had so much to say
And talked as if they owned the whole of time
Seduction of the mind a subtle art
The conversation lingered in the air
The mind is often route to find the heart
The thoughts are planted left to blossom there
The ripples of the mind that mark depart
For backwaters are places few would choose
The culmination so close after start
But what is gained we never truly lose
A chance encounter brief and bitter sweet
A journeyman will leave after the meet 

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Author: thepoetautist

A Gay poet of fifty odd years who is currently living in Cambodia.

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