The Wild Atlantic Wanderer, for JV


Why walk such distances,
with only the weather
measuring your steps,
over The Downs,
as breaths are taken
in exertion and sights?

Why walk without
a destination,
but the next stride,
on loosened chalk paths,
side-stepping puddles.

Why walk from your fixed place,
packed-up, back-turned,
to be rained-on, blown,
to find loneliness,
to be met by hearth
and hearty places?
*Jane Volker’s blog:

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