Autism Creative

Poetry: Forayer1 min read

An autistic marauder finds more than contentment in nature.

That’s me—

One single meek marauder—

Just a

Homeward-bound scavenger

Wandering over wrecked pastures,

Scrambling up sodden mountains,

Foraging in broken fields,

Biding my time in the barrens,

Sunburned under ample skies.

Always finding

Enough

More or less.

3 comments

  1. You acomplish a lot with very little here, I like the sense of intimacy and isolation you build.  It’s playful and I relate to the feeling of wandering and wish I could do it more myself.

  2. I love your poem.  It’s kind of my dream place.  Calming, interesting, and solitary.  Where I want to be.  Thanks

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