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Why I Love To Travel

Walking the cobbled stone streets
Of some ancient city at dusk
Looking at worn out old buildings
Marveling at their grace and beauty
And musing over what they must have witnessed

Touching plaster
As it crumbles under my hand
I look at various intricately carved doorways
And
Wonder
Who entered
Who left

I feel the sun
Dip
Down
Low
And bathe everything in her saffron glow
As the ghosts of old worlds
That were once magnificent universes
Teeming with their lives, loves, and battles
The personal soap operas
Of forgotten men and women
Dance in my head

I love this time of day
As birds begin to chirp from nowhere
Things start to move and come to life again
There is a scent in the air
Soft
Made of dirt, native foliage, perfume, sweat
And something
Intangible
It soothes me
Makes me forget myself
I like getting lost in the beauty of ancient cities
Becoming nothing
I can be no one here

It's a time of day when
The souls of these buildings speak
If you'll only
Stop
And
Listen
They have so much to say

Sitting at a table at some local cafe
Just

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