“For <b>today’s prompt</b>, 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.”

I got partway through this poem and couldn’t figure out where to go next.  My impatience is getting in the way of writing today, so this is my offering:
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<b>Trapped in a Low-Income Life</b>
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I dream of places both far and close by:
big cities, countryside, tiny towns
lost in rural America.
I long for Europe and for Africa,
wish myself in Southeast Asia,
even wonder about Antarctica.
A photo safari on the savannah,
a trail ride through the Andes,
an icebreaker bound for the North Pole;
if I could, I would travel anywhere,
just to see where the voyage took me.
I only leave the site of my very own life
through tv documentaries, or books,
or pretending the stories of others
could happen to me.

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