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Full of wanderlust and broken-ness,
crippled nomad,
restless and lame.
That's the dichotomy.
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'restless and lame'
Love this poem. Says a great deal with a few words. On face value it puts me in mind of an old lady I once shared a hospital ward with who had spent her life walking round London and sleeping rough. then looking deeper at the metaphor of a vagrant with no energy left I get powerful images of so many people in the world displaced by this or that regime yet too broken sometimes to keep moving.
