you go places
riding on a bus
transferring to a boat
sitting for a moment
on a port
seeing people disembarking
on a plank of wood
outside a launch
you see children lifted by their fathers
mothers with umbrella
sunny days
a line of green trees along the
seemingly endless road
more days to
circumnavigate an island
of white sands
night when you are alone with
everyone
staying for a while
checking their bags and
clothes
days are going fast
passing you by
on wish not to hold on any hour
you flow
like a river, yes always like a river
not a part of you wishing a clog
a barrier
you are like a rubber stretched
nothing snaps

RIC S. BASTASA

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tripping-5/