The wind blows in my hair.
My camera hangs around my neck.
My feet walk from each site,
To the next.
Traveling.
It's how you can escape life.
It's how you can let go and be free.
It's a reminder that we are all different, but in a good way.
Every culture, every race, every family, is different,
Is unique.
Is special.
I smile,
Knowing that I can go home,
And cross several other things off my bucket list.
Because today, I really lived.
Today I felt so much excitement and wonder.
I hope to have more days
Like today.
More trips,
Each better from the last.
YOU ARE READING
Purple poems
Poetry"And if a genie were to come come and tell her she had one wish, she would wish for the world to slow down, and for the pain to finally stop." #17 in tired 8/8/18
