Somewhere where there are no trees,
No rivers, hills or sounds of traffic.
There’s a place that’s nowhere,
Far beyond the reach of my family.
Nowhere is my place of being,
Whispers are echoes in stilled silence.
A land untouched by man,
Hidden in the grassy sea, no one is seen.
Everywhere there is nature,
Acres separate the few folk.
No need for conversation,
Cows, horses and dogs are my neighbors.
Nowhere do I have to be,
Everywhere is peaceful.
Somewhere else I can be,
Nowhere else would I be free.
© 2015 An Offbeat Bluestocking
For day 7 of Writing 201: Poetry we were asked to write about neighborhoods. With the title alone, where I live is much exaggerated but in all honestly, sometimes living on a ranch can make you feel like you’re in nowhere. Most times it’s a problem when having to go into town but on days when there’s nothing to do, “Nowhere” is the best place to be. Thanks for reading, cheers!
[Image via Kent Landerholm]