A poem I wrote about all of the traveling I haven’t done . . .

Baedecker Love Song


London is burning

Venice is sinking

New York is dirty

Oslo is cold


We booked all the wrong tours

We missed our connections


We bought the wrong gifts

from all the wrong shops


We saw all the wrong places

with all the wrong people


We made all the wrong choices


I’d make them again

given the chance to make them again

with you

(This poem is an original work by me. Copyrighted. Please don’t steal it.)