I long for the wild places,
Unsullied by man,
And far from the bright blinking
Arc at the edge of the land.

I long for the wild places
And the freedom to be
Unbordered, unbounded,
Unbridled, and free.

Instead I am trapped
In a red ring of power,
Far from the meadows
And fields full of flowers,

Far from the places
I long so to see,
And far from the me
I feel I should be.

I long for the wild places
I’m not sure still exist.
I hate that I feel like
I’m no more than grist

For a mill that consumes
Every last thing in sight,
Every bulb, every stem,
Every petal of white.

I long for the wild places,
And I’ll go there someday,
Even if it means bribing
A cowboy to take me away.

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