Living, we cover vast territories; 
imagine your life drawn on a map--  
a scribble on the town where you grew up,
  each bus trip traced between school and home,
 or a clean line across the sea to a place you flew once.
 Think of the time  and things we accumulate,
 all the while growing more conscious of losing and leaving.
 Aging,our bodies collect wrinkles and scars 
for each place the world would not give under our weight. 
Our thoughts get laced with strange aches, 
sweet as the final chord that hangs in a guitar's blond torso.
-First Gestures, Julie Kesdorf