What it Means to be Free

we see clouds, grey hills, the road edged with fuchsia

Photo: © David Whyte

What it Means to Be Free

We sit on the plane, we watch,
we see clouds, grey hills,
the road edged with fuchsia,
and from a vision, near Bantry,
an old man walking on the wet road.

Behind him the light opens
in a long arch across the sea.
He has a stick, a hat, old shoes,
a gait that says he will walk forever.

He reaches out, touchin…