Meander

Come take my hand,
let’s meander with no
particular destination
on our compass;
just endless possibilities
of finding a hollow
in the scrub of noise;
a clearing in the trees

Come take my hand,
let me tell you of
the hidden words
that won’t leave my lips
the ones I keep
deep below the
surface of hello

Come take my hand,
let’s meander through
the woods where
clouds can’t find us
and it’s just
the two of us
in dappled sunlight

Come take my hand,
let’s jump on a plane
and meander down
the cobblestones
of our hearts and history.

© Tanya Southey