A Roamer by Stephen Jarrell Williams

Sometimes he settles down
For a little rest and comfort

But he’s a roamer
A so-called traveler of the world

He cuts off his roots
Whenever they get too long

He’s miserably happy
Walking the dusty roads to neon streets

Squeezing a tree
Kicking a wall

Leaving out the window
Running wild beneath the stars

Taking a bath in a river
With a waterfall to the rocks below.

Stephen Jarrell Williams
Not so long ago, Stephen Jarrell Williams was called by some, the Great Poet of Doom… Now, he writes at night, enthused, and waiting for the Coming Good Dawn.


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