Poem of the Day

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I find travelling a mystery,

‘specially if I fall asleep.

First I was there, now I am here.

How can that be?


All it takes is time passing –

plus a bus, a tram, a train,

a boat, a car, a plane.

Then I am where I wasn’t before.


It’s a riddle I hope never

to solve. Even more than

travelling from city to bush,

bush to sea: I like the mystery.


Jaz Stutley
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #23