Map of “Somewhere”

            m

I am free

On an island far far away from here, where 

sailboats toss and roll in the 

surf, and seagulls soar like a soprano’s song

Lines destined for a diary

or at least a schooner’s topsail 

becomes the indicator of land where

inlets become infinite, coves abundant

A land where I am free, where I 

am me

—

An atlas, a map

Bounded by walls of ocean

Binds me, to be free.

—

I am

Free from whatever is binding me because this land is new and pretty and it revolves around me and maybe that is selfish or individualistic or a product of our economy that doesn’t care about reality.

Maybe, deep down we know we’ll never find land like this.

Or we know we’d ruin it, all the beauty that exists there without us already.

No, I will not continuously be more of a colonizer, a gentrifier, an eco-destroyer

So instead, I imagine islands but strictly in my dreams

Only on pieces of paper or when the moonlight shows its phases

Only with a pen in my hand or when the cicadas come out to sing

Only then am I

    m

free