Point of View
It was a rainy night in March under a Timor moon.
We hunched in cruel misery beneath a wild monsoon.
Around one flickering candle, under a canopy
that formed a refuge for us, strung up from tree to tree.
Travelers all, and young and broke, we stalked a narrow line
creating our own magic with mushrooms, weed and wine,
working our way around the world on impulse and on grit.
Misfortune? Fortune in disguise when we accepted it.
Thus sighs transformed to laughter when shared with kindred mind,
following adventure’s road wherever it might wind.
A sudden thud behind us? Some flinched but others spun
around to see what new adventure came to swell the fun.
For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 560 prompts: library monsoon hunch sigh disguise cruel thud flickering impulse stalk magic line