time again to walk
away from the world of shoes and wristwatches
and turn towards mystery
step through
the door in the hill
Some other traveler
knowing you’d come this way
has left instructions for you
There are survival tips in poems
clues in seashells crumbled by tides
afternoon shadows through evergreens
garden tunnels dug by moles with their own agenda
Look up. There are maps buried in the stars.
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Puff Of Smoke Poems 