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Hidden Pilgrimages
tourist maps lie like wet pebbles
on a fading beach where footprints dry
in the shade of seaweed
I’ve traced those maps through Asia
nudged backpacks along the Loire
made plans in a Venetian chapel
but nowhere have I caught
the end the finality the goal
when I could say ‘I’ve got there’
always another mile on the ticket
another hill beyond the river
a cockle-shell lying
on the palm of my hand
nowhere to wear it
for harbour is always
round the next bend
Joanna M. Weston has had poetry, reviews, and short stories published in anthologies and journals for twenty-five years. Her middle-reader, Those Blue Shoes, published by Clarity House Press; and poetry, A Summer Father, published by Frontenac House of Calgary. Her eBook, The Willow Tree Girl at her blog 1960Willowtree
Email: Joanna M. Weston
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