~Gypsy~

Who are you,
Silent, smirking stranger?
Who are you and where have you been?
Have you traveled alone,
an apprehensive, map-less wanderer,
down narrow, shadowed pathways?
Down wide and purpled streets?

Who are you?
Where have you been,
holding out your fickle heart,
hands open, yet so small?

It’s alright,
sit and stew in silence, if you must,
or sleep the worried days away
forgetting sorry, red-rimmed memories
once cradled like a child.

Why so scattered, little bird?
Why shy from settling down
in something comfortably familiar?
Why not wrap yourself in punctuated certainty and
rest in something sure
instead of grasping on to question marks;
a slippery sort of faith.

Doubting gypsy girl
with restless toes that
itch to go
to walk
to run
towards anything that isn’t
where you are at any time,
and anxious, liquid eyes,
that wonder, worry, wish
on fallen, gas-lit stars.

It’s coming close to dawn and
you’ve evaded
every question
with your feisty, tilted smile, so I suppose
you will remain,
for now,
a mystery,
to me…

…and perhaps

to you…

…little rootless stranger,
where shall you go from here?