My vagabond heart
shuffles, ever on,

seeking unknown truths,

here, there, everywhere,

as years fade like youth, slipping through a sieve.


Still the vagabond heart shuffles ever on,

the path long, arduous,

stepping between minefields,

at times hopeful,
at times suffocated by dread,

for there have been far too many fractured smiles,

far too many tattered feelings,

littering the alleyways of life that I have tread.


My vagabond heart shuffles ever on,

its pieces strewn
hither and thither,

my tears slipping,
slithering down my bruised cheeks,

perennially on the mend,

as I trudge on,

ever hopeful,
ever seeking,

the wild flower that may blossom,

just around the next bend.