The Nomad

I sit on my little rock
Drawing circles in the pond
I drift in his endless talk
Of which I’ve grown so fond

He was a globe-trotter
I’d call him a nomad
My dreams he would water
With the bucketful he had

He’d tell me tales
Of his adventures
Of when he’d set sail
And it’s uncertain future

I peek over my shoulder
Of time I can’t keep track
The night’s getting colder
And hey, the nomad’s back!

Image Courtesy:
www.deviantart.net


Zoom past!
Yours, literally
Aamir


The Beginning!

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