My life had nowhere to go,
and it got there a long time ago.
There wasn't a subtle or jarring shift.
I looked up and saw all the clouds adrift,
and I realized I've always had nowhere.
To go, or to stay. I might as well care, since
I always have. It has served some well! Besides,
I don't know how else to abide or dwell,
or journey, or put down roots, or root
in the mud making feasts of shoots
and grubs, or grinning as friends
reach out for weird cahoots.
It's nowhere to pout.
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