Gypsy Heart
L
Laurence Overmire
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Place to place, always
Looking, city country farm
Or field, some small patch of
Ground to call "home" for a
Time, people passing in and out
Faces of a dream, disappearing
The sigh and moan of found and lost
Taking and giving bits and pieces of
Themselves, each memory a
Locket, worn close to the breast
Belonging nowhere and everywhere
A new road always beckoning
The future always unknown, always
Re-creating itself.
~ Laurence Overmire
(Previously published in Autumn Leaves, May 2003)
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