Get Out the Map
You feel it in between your bones,
a stretching impulse, potential
energy wound tight, pulled back,
and aimed at an open road.
We ache. I feel it. Both of us
itchy, checking our watches,
aware of the weather, unsettled
because we are not in this moment
who we want to be, sitting here
behind our desks, directed at
screens and balancing spreadsheets
and breathing the air conditioning.
Imagine. Just ten hours and we
could be taking in the sea,
our feet sunk deep into the sand
and day-drinking rum, feeling
our muscles let go and our breathing
slow, pulling down some vitamin D.
It makes me wonder why we choose
to land where we do and put down roots
so far away from the salt air and
the cradle of the waves, unless it is
to be sure that we won't be tempted
to kick off our shoes, loosen a tie
and cross a threshold we can't uncross.
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