April PAD Challenge: Day 24

Sorry for the late posting time this morning. Computer issues. In fact, I hope this attempt to post actually goes through before it crashes again. 🙂

For today’s prompt, I want you to write a travel-related poem. It can be human travel, the migration of swallows, the trafficking of drugs, etc. Some sort of movement from point A to point B.

Here’s my attempt for the day:


Fog fills the valley
so that he can’t see
her little village. She
should be making her
way to him, but he
won’t know until she
does. He imagines
her determined face,
body bent forward
and legs still moving.
Just then, a bird
lifts out of the fog
and on out of sight.


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854 thoughts on “April PAD Challenge: Day 24

  1. Tara Hooper

    Oh How I Love To See

    Oh how I love to see the world and all of its beauty
    Traveling about taking in all kinds of experiences
    Sometimes taking the world on a with a cutie

    Watching the vast landscapes punctuate the earth
    Swimming in rivers, lakes, streams and oceans pristine and supreme
    Eating fine cuisine and native delicacies specific to each region
    Allowing these many journeys to be a rebirth

    Interacting with individuals from many cultures can be fun
    At times its nightmarish and makes you want to run
    Making new friends while traveling abroad what a treat
    Knowing that you’ll always have a friend in some part of the world is really neat

    So how I love to see the world in all its glory
    Seeking out places of wonder to add to my story
    Creating lifetime experiences is my thrill
    Loving to travel, I could never be still.

  2. JL Smither

    Kyoto Temple

    Being lost in Kyoto with no
    phone, trying to decipher
    the characters on the bus,
    on the map, on the signs,
    and following some old man’s advice
    to hand him 5 yen, take off my shoes,
    and walk down into a pitch black tunnel
    under a temple, feeling my way along
    the walls and the handrail that
    became prayer beads under my fingers—
    surely I would be a mysterious disappearance
    before sunset—but when I was beyond lost
    and accepted that, I found the point of my journey.

  3. Dione

    Fevered with wanderlust, the
    lonely backpacker thumbs through his weathered notebook
    stained with coffee and memories, and
    whenever someone asks whether he is coming or going he
    smiles to himself, his thin lips spread in a slight curve,
    saying nothing and everything.
    Then when the train pulls into the platform he shoulders his bag,
    the sole wanderer in a dusty cotton shirt as people mill around him,
    looking for family, glad to be home.

  4. yolanda davis-overstreet

    Day 24

    Travel (getting from point a to point b)


    “Age” now
    “Age” then
    “Age” to be
    The lessons and fate of me
    moves on – year to year.

    What was this way then-
    is that way now.

    What will tomorrow be?