I live in two places -- "snowbirds" they call us -- Hilton Head Island in the winter and eastern Long Island in the summer. I have never been able to describe what it feels like to be doing "backing and forthing" like this -- the coming and going ... going and coming -- as well as in this poem. The only thing I have learned for sure is: "Wherever you go, there you are". One cannot escape oneself in all of this process, and most issues are not related to one's geography, but more about the the geography "inside". but -- the poem is correct: upon each arrival there is "hope" for the upcoming days. Upon each leaving there is sadness, as well as relief.
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I live in two places -- "snowbirds" they call us -- Hilton Head Island in the winter and eastern Long Island in the summer. I have never been able to describe what it feels like to be doing "backing and forthing" like this -- the coming and going ... going and coming -- as well as in this poem. The only thing I have learned for sure is: "Wherever you go, there you are". One cannot escape oneself in all of this process, and most issues are not related to one's geography, but more about the the geography "inside". but -- the poem is correct: upon each arrival there is "hope" for the upcoming days. Upon each leaving there is sadness, as well as relief.