I have become nomadic.

I move with a plan, but not with the intention to set down roots.

I used to plant myself.

Now, I look forward to the change in scenery.

The drier weather.

I must say goodbye to the ocean.

But I am nomadic.

Perhaps I will return.

I played with the positioning of each line. I wouldn’t quite call them stanzas, but I thought it’d be a nice way to match the physical text to the topic of the post 🙂

Photo by Courtney Corlew on Unsplash