Editor’s Note: On Sunday, Feb. 27, The Edge published an installment of William P. Perry’s poetry series Anyone for Tennyson? that offered poems about travel. This prompted poet Leslie Klein to send us her own poem on the subject.
I want to hit the road,
going to places so distant
from here.
Off to barren mountains
with fir-lined ledges —
desert brightness
capturing the sand.
Lush vineyards bursting
with nectar,
cliff sides over the sea.
I want to wake up to sunbeams
nestle under the stars at night
in a new place
with a new landscape —
rocky, sandy, spruce or pine.
The elms, oaks, cherry and ash
left behind,
as I discover
how the earth changes her mind.
It is harsh and dry
moist and thick.
Carpeted in green,
eroded and lined.
I want to go to a new place
with a diversity of smells —
jasmine and rose
sage and cedar
saltwater and sand.
I want to taste foods
cooked with spices, rare
aroma and flavor unlike anywhere.
Let’s hit the road.
Picnic on our way
with stops for a view
or a walk for the day.
I want to see it all
in a leisurely way.
